


Ultimate Spider-Woman Origin

by Pha5e



Category: Marvel Ultimate Universe, Spider-Woman (Comic)
Genre: F/F, Marvel Zombies, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 64,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pha5e/pseuds/Pha5e
Summary: Origin of Earth 1610 Ultimate Spider-Woman as told from her perspective.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Ultimate Spider-Woman Origin

Ultimate Spider-Woman -Origin By: Pha5e The origin of ultimate Spider-Woman from her perspective.

Forward.

Jessica Drew AKA Spider Woman is a clone of Peter Parker from Earth 1610, the Ultimate Universe.

Issue 1 Denial

I watched the police clean up the crime scene in the street below. This had turned into another cold night on a rooftop where I mulled over the mess my life had become. I sighed in frustration.

Girls. It always came back to them. MJ- Mary Jane Watson, the love of my life, my only confidant and best friend didn't listen to me and couldn't keep herself out of harms way. We'd broken up cause she didn't have powers and couldn't do what I could do. I'd had to end us before my secret life ended her. It was the responsible thing to do. That's me. Mr Responsible.

That brought me to Black Cat AKA Felicia Hardy AKA smoking hot babe in revealing cat suit that made all my spider senses tingle. I should have known better than to side with Black Cat. Of course she'd betray me. It was in her nature. Cats are fickle creatures after all. She'd joined Hammerhead and Electra without a seconds thought about right or wrong, solely because they were competitors of the Kingpin. Shang Chi, Iron Fist and Moon Knight… They could have been killed. Hell, Moon Knight was injured in the mayhem. Then she switched sides again. (Ultimate Spider Man #85)

It turned out alright but that didn't make me any less angry. My fist clenched. I should web her up and leave her for the cops. Why don't I!? Because I have a crush? This is stupid. But here we are.

Angry and disappointed I turned about to leave. "Hey!" Felicia said as she easily somersaulted and alighted catlike in front of me, blocking my way.

"Jeez!" I said, thanking god my mask lenses prevented Felicia from seeing me stare at her revealing costume. It's hard to look anywhere else. Did I mention I had a crush?

"Do you really think I'm pretty?" She asked demurely.

"Well, yeah," I admitted awkwardly, averting my eyes, blood rushing to my head, the mask hiding my blush. God. I felt every one of my fifteen years at the moment. Um... Pi, to ten decimal places. Er, 3.14… dammit spandex can't hide what I'm thinking about.

Cat smiled winningly. "Well, see, I didn't know."

"Yes, you did," I said, amused and nervous. Why did this feel like a game of cat and mouse. Probably cause it was.

Black Cat moved distractingly forwards. "You still mad at me?"

I tried to remember why I should be mad at her. It was hard. "Yes." I backed into a chimney as I tried to maintain my personal space. "Oof."

"Where are you going now?" She asked with keen interest.

"Uh... home." I said. To bed. That was the wrong thing to think about.

"Can I come with you?" She suggested, pressing into me, bedroom eyes way too enticing. She was warm and very soft, just like I'd imagined. Bad imagination. Down boy.

I felt my mouth go dry. "Uh..."

"Can I?" She moved against me slowly and it grew harder to think.

"No." I squeaked.

"Do you want to kiss me?" She pressed.

Oh my god... I floundered. "Little bit." I can't move. Like a deer in headlights.

"Let's do it." Felicia decided.

I frowned hesitantly, mind racing as I tried to figure out where this was leading. "What?"

"Right here right now. Kiss me." She whispered huskily.

I tried to respond but words failed me. Oh my God...

"I think about this all the time... what's under this mask. Who this mystery man in my life really is? I want to see you. I want to kiss you. I'm ready." Her breath was warm on my mask. Her lips loomed, begging to be kissed.

Oh my god. I was trapped. Those headlight were on high beam and I was trapped in them.

"Right now. I want to unwrap my mystery present." Her dangerously clawed gloves were gently at my throat, at the join between my mask and suit, pushing the mask up, exposing my neck.

Stop her. She's - she's unmasking you. Stop it. Well... she's oh my God. My feet are missing.

"I'm going to do it, Spider-Man... I'm going to take off this mask and I'm going to kiss you." She purred.

This is - no! This is - I felt air first on my chin, then progressively on my lips, my nose and my brow as she slid my mask up. Revealing me completely. Unmasked. I looked up at her and smiled. I closed my eyes, puckered up and moved forward for the promised kiss.

I kissed open air. "I thought you were you're just a little... how how old are you?" She asked in a thin, shocked voice. "Bluuaaggh!!"

I opened my eyes in shock, something warm and wet hitting my belly and dripping down. I stared down. She'd thrown up on me. She looked at me, her surprise clear, as though she'd been doused in icy water.

"Sorry... fur ball." She muttered as she turned and fled. I watched her go feeling decidedly stupid and dejected. This was just so frustrating and confusing. So... typical. The old Parker luck. What had I been thinking.

My vision swam as the rooftop faded.

"She's coming out of it..." a voice noted.

I shook off the encounter with Felicia. Was that a dream? No. It was a recent memory. It happened just moments ago. I was certain… the confusion… sexual excitement… embarrassment… and that overwhelming tension… Yeah, that was moments ago… but no vomit now. Still, that was a total crash and burn. How typical. What a fool I am! Thinking with little spidey. Thank God no one saw it. I'd never live it down. But... why am I waking up? How the hell did I get here? I looked up at the guy, vision swimming. She's coming out of it? Yeah. Me too. I thought absently. Something is very wrong. I feel weak. Frail. Not my self. Who are these people and what are they doing to me? Where the heck is my costume? My face is still exposed. I just took my mask off I know but now I'm in bed. I lay prone, handcuffed securely to a gurney with I.V. tubes running into veins, other things monitoring vitals and a catheter pressing uncomfortably below the waist. That felt disturbing. Beside the bed sat a machine that went PING.

My eyes searched then locked on … something. I stared uncomprehendingly at the contours outlined by the bed sheets. I'd just been admiring Felicia's generously filled costume. Those didn't looked nearly as ample but from my perspective they were mountains. Holy crap! Fear kicke in, the disorientation of waking retreating. Unmasking tends to do that. As does an out of body experience like this one.

Black Cat… We'd been together moments ago, I'm completely certain. How did I get here in this body that was clearly not mine?

I searched about for answers. Rows of bright fluorescent lighting stabbed into my eyes. The room was of solid reinforced construction. An institutional building. Beyond the grinning man stood shadowy figures dressed in surgical hazmat suits. Standard issue rent a goons. Most had large machine guns aimed at their patient. Their prisoner. Me. Damnit. The old Parker luck never fails me. I don't get it.

"Hi. My name is Ben Reilly. If that name sounds vaguely familiar it's because I was Doctor Curt Connors' assistant a few months ago." He explained.

I followed his words despite all the guns. Curt recently played god with my blood sample and created that crazy red symbiote that killed Gwen. This guy helped do that? Great. A mad scientist's assistant. He's a bloody Renfield... What could possibly go wrong? I went to respond with an inane quip but a weird high pitched mewling noise came out instead. It sounded absurdly childish. My larynx throbbed with dull pain.

"Don't worry about trying to talk. You can't yet. You were brought into this world just a week ago. Your body hasn't fully adjusted to its— how can I explain it? Your body is still forming. You've been heavily sedated so as to not hurt yourself."

A week?! Still forming...? He's lying. Has to be. But they definitely have me sedated. Bastard. It's not for my good. You're worried about me hurting you. But… What are you doing to me? How...

"I know in your mind, you're a little freaked out and confused right now... but don't worry about that either." Renfield advised. "Okay, in your head you remember yourself as Peter Parker, Spider Man... But you're not him. In fact you're not even a him. You're a her. A biological replica of him, created by me and my team. You're in an R and D facility for the Central Intelligence Agency."

I was suddenly preoccupied with the effort of wringing Renfield's lousy neck. So weak! Drugged. That's what he said. Must also be hallucinating. Temporal, auditory and visual. Yeah that's it. The guys with guns tightened their grips sending my spider sense tingling. Well that's … not good. My spider sense tells me they're a real threat. So I am their prisoner. That much is real. Weak and panting with effort my hands dropped feebly to the sheets. My hands look and feel small. Feminine. Matching my perception of my chest. What have they drugged me with?

"You're safe and okay." Ben reassured the figure in the bed.

I shook my head. You know Renfield you need to work on your bedside manner 'cause everything you just said left me feel decidedly unsafe and unokay. I snorted in disgust, hands moving up to test the curves I saw on my chest, then going rigid at what they found. Oh no. Oh no! No, no, no, no! He can't be telling the truth. They can't have given me girl parts!? This is just some kind of weird psychedelic brainwashing experiment. My mind raced. It looks and feels real but it ain't.

"You're phase five of the project actually. The goal was to process a clone of Peter Parker. Why him? Because well, because of his spider powers. And in your case we did a little chromosomal manipulation and you were born a girl. And you are a rousing success. You're the best one so far. We're really this is very, very exciting."

A little chromosomal what? Sheesh! I've dealt with crazy before but this is like, meta crazy. This fruit loop thinks I'll believe I'm a clone? A female clone!!? No. Black Cat must have slipped me a Mickey. I knew I shouldn't have trusted her. But when did she get goons? No. I must have been captured by someone with mind powers. Or maybe this was hypnotism. A pink brain slug?

What was that line? I doubt my senses because a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are! I snorted.

"Now, the good news, as confusing as it is to have the memories and sense memories of a boy when you are a girl and the memories of someone you're not... don't worry. We have a psych team coming in very soon and you'll be stripped of all those memories and we'll have all new ones implanted in you in no time. In fact, by then you won't even remember having this conversation, the fact that you're a clone or any of this."

That's a horrible thought. Good thing this is all in my head or I'd be getting worried. I considered. Cause if this is real then my life just jumped the shark. Heck if this is real it isn't even my life. I shuddered. If, just for a moment we assume this is real I need to get my Xeroxed mind around it. Phase five... so... Five clones of me? No. Not of me. Of him. Peter Parker. No that is me… can't buy into this mixed up head game. But supposing it's real. That made six. Hah! One more and we'd have a soccer team... Yeah this has to be some kind of bad head trip... there's no other explanation. God I'm exhausted.

"But we need to run some psych evaluation tests on you before we go to the next step, and that includes telling you this and observing how you react to it. And your next life, if you choose to accept it, is going to be just as exciting as being Spider Man You'll be a special agent for the Central Intelligence Agency. Cool huh?" He asked.

Cool? Yeah until I come down from whatever horse sized pills I'm tripping on I'm going to be wrecked… I yawned, blinking asleep for a moment.

"Let's see what they have for you... you'll be special agent Jessica Drew. Pretty name. You'll be an agent of the CIA. Codename: Spider Woman. Ugh. Not very original. I'll try to have them change it for you," Renfield offered.

I sighed nervously. If this is a hallucination then it's really complicated. My subconscious has this all figured out... now did I ever want to be a girl? Uh uh. No. Must be mind control. Jean? Jean Grey? This isn't funny… so… tired.

"So how did this all happen? Well if you remember... when you, and by you I mean Peter Parker, were friends with Curt Connors, he stole a sample of your blood... and, you'll remember, he accidentally incubated a clone prototype that became that horrible monster that wreaked such carnage on my college campus. And killed your friend Gwen Stacy. Well I helped him. Clearly that was not the plan. We didn't want to hurt anyone. We wanted to helpu people. But what happened. And then..." He kept talking but I didn't hear cause I'm pretty sure I fell asleep.

Or woke up. I found myself male again, in my spidey costume, web swinging back home. But it was a strange sensation. A bit like I'm not exactly in control, yet I am. I remember Renfield's little speech like it just happened. I'm male again and swinging back from my failed encounter with Felicia. That's good. So what was that thing with Renfield? As I'm trying to figure that out I found a water tap on a roof and did my best to clean the mess on my suit. The mess from when Black Cat barfed all over me. I can't believe she threw up on me. Jeez. I'm not that unattractive am I? I suppose I could be a bit young for her though. That I conceded. But MJ and I just broke up and Black Cat could look after herself. That was probably the only thing she had going for her. Oh and she was drop dead gorgeous. In retrospect though unmasking was a bad idea. Hormones over ruled my good sense. Black Cat isn't a good person. Not someone I need in my life. Not a girl I could take home to meet Aunt May.

Fur ball? Damn!

I finished cleaning and swung away. Soon I was at my bag webbed to the base strut of a rooftop water tower. I took my bag and swung back to the lane near my home in Queens. Quickly I removed my mask and put my normal street clothes back on over my suit. Everything on my body was exactly where it should be. Everything was right. I went to confirm with my hands but I couldn't. Huh. Weird. It is like I'm a passenger?

Maybe I was drugged. Or maybe it was some kind of weird dissociative identity disorder thing? God that's a horrible thought, all this running around in a mask is causing me to have split personality disorder. No. It's something else… but what?

Hang on. Here come those embarrassing memories of Black Cat. A sense of regret and chagrin associated with the failed kiss. "Ow." I muttered with a hang dog expression as I opened the front door, only to be confronted by Aunt May. "Hi Aunt M "

"Did you skip school again today?" May accused. The silence hung thickly as the tension grew. I felt guilty as heck. "I won't live in a house of lies. If I have to speak to you again about this I'm kicking you out. Can I be any more clear?"

I slunk upstairs to my bedroom, stripped off my clothes and vomit stained suit, stuffed them in the hamper and climbed into bed. I curled up under my covers.

Worry and angst about women and superheroing plagued me. Would Felicia figure out who I really was? Would she use that knowledge to get at the Kingpin? She had made noises about going straight but she was fickle as a cat. What had gone wrong…? Obviously it was the age difference. Would she even speak to me again? How would MJ feel if she found out? Betrayed. No we'D broken up. Still I felt guilty. Like I'd cheated. And then there was Aunt May. She didn't deserve this stress but I had been doing the right thing stopping Hammerhead even though Fisk benefited.

Yeah this is normal. So what was that weird delusion about being a woman? I observed detachedly. And why this weird sensation of being a passenger in my own body? I tried to click my fingers. Nothing.

I buried my face in my pillow, tossing and turning as I wrestled with my thoughts. My mistakes. It took a while for me to nod off.

And then I was back with Black Cat on the roof top. Again. Oh God. Is this delusion ever going to end? I feel like I'm stuck in that film Groundhog Day. But I still felt more like a passenger than a participant. Is my brain stuck on repeat? Huh. Come to think of it this all looks a little different. No smells. Sounds odd too.

The moon was full and much larger and bright. The stars glimmered oddly and there were no familiar constellations. Just random pinpricks in the black curtain of night. The cityscape was more an impression. Like the backdrop of a play. I intuited it more than saw it. The colours were dark but oddly vivid. Like something Van Gogh might paint. Spidey Night…

I stared at her costume again. It seemed more revealing. More erotic. My gaze focused. Well those are the same. But my interest seemed a little … too much. Like the colours it was vivid and overly intense. I have a bad feeling about this.

Hey. Stop. We both know how this ends... it's a train wreck pal. Stop. Abort! I tried to tell myself. But this vignette had its own script apparently.

Again I went to kiss her but this time she was in my arms, kissing me back passionately, her full curves pressing against my body. Those curves. Wow. Then I was unmasked and somehow we had our skin tight costumes off. Not sure how that happened… Hot skin against skin. Then... she wanted it. I wasn't scared or uncertain or anything. I wanted it too. This time we got it.

Oh God! Do. I. Get. A. Say. In. This?

I awoke on the gurney, for a moment half on that weird sordid rooftop, half in the complex. Then the sense of being on that surreal roof faded. The rows of fluorescent night lights were on. The place was quiet and still. I was sweating and breathing heavily with excitement. I was really excited. And it felt really, really different. It's hard to explain. And it was confusing as hell. Worst of all there was something between my legs, something sticky. Oh God! I berated myself as I panted with what I can only describe as arousal. My hands were between my legs. But there was nothing else there. Okay Pete. Back to the delusion of being a female prisoner… it's gotta be. So aroused though. Like a wet dream… the only pro was that I didn't feel like a passenger now. My thoughts are all mine despite my excitement. This is not some weirdly surreal voyeuristic erotic vision.

That was… just wow… intense!

"Jessica? Are you okay? Your vitals just spiked." Ben called over an intercom as he worked the security door to open it. "Must have been something from the Prime."

"Mfwine..." I responded with some difficulty, still weak and sweating from the Uber extreme experience. My mumbling voice sounded high, breathy, feminine. What just happened?! Urgently I tried to remove my hands but they were stuck fast. Webbed to be precise. That was the sticky sensation. God. I feel like I'm hopped on drugs. Viagra…? Pulse racing… holy crap.

And… Wait! I'm not wearing my web shooters. Am I? How? I wriggled my fingers. Things feel all wrong down there. But clearly I've just webbed my hands to myself without web shooters. Huh. That explains why I can't feel things properly. Webbing. And my fingers tingle slightly. Did the webbing just come from my fingers? Organic webs? Not possible. Still, better it came from my finger tips than my… abdomen... cause… if it's not there…

"Are you okay Jessica?" Ben asked, pausing to check the patients vitals. I seemed back to normal.

"Mwuh Huh." I responded in the positive. Don't come in! Oh man. Don't come in. This is embarrassing enough without you looking. This webbing better dissolve soon because I'm not strong enough to break free. I just lay there exhausted as I calmed down. Wow.

"Alright then." Ben replied, going back to his monitors. "I should tell you we intend to have you awake when Peter is asleep. There is a good reason for unsynching your respective sleeping patterns. If we don't then… well the dreams are much too intense as you now know. And the side affects are… bad," he trailed off.

I flushed in embarrassment and relief. Yeah I don't want more of these acid dreams. I shuddered. Jeez. Puberty is difficult enough. But hyper immersive drug flipped dreams? That was a sensory and emotive overload. Like I was there with everything dialled up to the max. Hell it still feels a bit like I'm there now. But whatever they're doing to me makes it feel like I'm in the wrong body right now. Ew! This is too much! God damned puberty blues! I don't need this. As if life wasn't complicated enough.

"We're getting it under control for you. The first clone has some significant mental issues because we didn't realise soon enough. Some… unhealthy denial issues. Couldn't accept hisnew reality.". Ben explained. "We tried to fix it but that attempt on the second clone led to progeria. We think we can solve the problem with a mind wipe. You know what they say. You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, right? As Peter is very active your waking hours aren't overly constrained. We just monitor him and keep you clones awake when he sleeps. Better that than the alternative. Stay awake. I'll tell you when you can go to sleep."

Monitor? What? I felt overwhelmed and helpless but also violated. They knew when I slept. Peter slept? No. I wasPeter.. This guy was an utter ass hat but I don't want any more of those dreams. Damnit, that dream was completely overwhelming. What if I had a nightmare? I blinked tears back and stared at the cameras monitoring the room. I should be thankful for the sheets at least. Can't show what I'm feeling. I lay there, struggling to keep my eyes open, to not fall asleep, hands webbed the whole time. I struggled but ended up nodding off.

Again I was looking at the impressionistic cityscape, reflected in the river. The Queensboro Bridge? Oh hell no! Not this dream. I know this dream! It's cast always gets bigger! I crouched atop the bridge. Dreading what was about to happen. The bridge Seemed taller. Unbelievably tall. I looked about in dread.

There he was. The Green Goblin, circling menacingly about me in the air like some predatory shark. Flaming eyes flickering crazy colours, mouth all sharp teeth, horns immeasurably long and sharp. Palpable burning hate, insanity and evil. I knew terror. Raw, instinctive, primal, unreasoning fear. This was the dream made real. Too real. I felt so small compared to his huge sickly green bulk. Flames danced about his balled fists.

The monster held Mary Jane on his shoulder as she struggled, laughing like a madman. "No!" I cried as he dropped her. I leaped. Falling as she fell. Just out of reach. I tried to use my webbing. My shooters were empty. It was just like a bad dream but too real. Everything in slow motion. Dive. Faster. Faster. Not fast enough. Too slow to catch her. I almost had her. But she was just out of reach. "No. No. No. it's my fault…"

"Peter!!! You promised you'd keep me safe. You lied." There was horror and fear in her eyes. But also hatred.

"MJ! No." She was going to die and it was all because of me. Oh god.

She hit the water like it was concrete. There was a sickening crunch of bone. I grabbed her lifeless body. Pulled her close. Cold. Lifeless. Gone. She'd died hating me. I felt crushed by loss and regret. Guilt.

"No! I'm sorry! This is all my fault…" I hugged her, buried my face in her mass of floating red hair. I wanted forgiveness but didn't deserve it. Then something touched my leg. I looked up. Floating there beside me was the desiccated corpse of Gwen Stacy. It pointed a bony finger at me. "Gwen?" I asked. How can I talk underwater?

"Peter… this is your fault." Lifeless eyes stared at me accusingly. "Your lies killed me!"

The truth of her words cut into me. God. I'm drowning in the weight of this emotion. This guilt. My lies.

Beyond her floated Uncle Ben. Shot. Dead. Because of me.. "You failed me Pete. It's your fault. Your life is an empty lie!"

I nodded. But Uncle Ben. I'm trying to live up to your expectations. Trying to make it right. I'm sorry. I…

"You killed her. Everything you touch dies. You're an imposter. You're no hero." Gwen's dad rasped, his bomb mangled visage a horror to behold. The water was red with blood. "Liar!"

That wasn't me. I didn't.. I… oh god. It's too much. Help me! Someone! Please. Help.

"Get out!" Aunt May said in hurt rage, looking down upon me from the bridge above, the water distorting her, making her bigger. Her disappointment and grief were huge and palpable. "Go live in your house of lies. Get out!" Behind her the flaming insanity circled, inexorably approaching in a mad spiral of doom. She was going to die too. Because of me.

Aunt May. Please. I only ever wanted to protect you.

With a wrenching sob I awoke. I lay there. Unable to think. Tears in my eyes. Oh God. Too intense! I… why…

"Told you. Don't nod off." Ben said.

I nodded and let the guilt coil about in my mind. It was because of my lies. The dream. That hadn't been my dream. I understood now. I couldn't afford to lie to myself.. No. More. Lies. I thought to myself. I lay there. I have too many regrets. I've lied too and hurt too many people. God. This is real. The intensity of that dream… god. I shuddered. I have to face the truth. No more lies then. Not to myself. I'm not Peter Parker… not the original at least. Who am I? I lay there, reviewing things over and over. Hands still webbed. There was no escaping the truth. God. I'm spinning around in circles. You bastards! Who am I? Frustrated anger replaced denial.

"Okay. Peter is up. You can go to sleep Jessica ." Ben finally said.

Like Hell I'm Jessica. I'm… Peter? Aargh! In my exhausted state it didn't take long for me to nod off. Mercifully there were no more dreams.

Issue 2: Anger

I awoke to stare down at the female contours displayed beneath my bed sheets. Jeez. The curves were still clearly girlish. Chest and hips noticeably so, limbs all around slimmer. Nothing changed there. I also had long soft hair. Of course.

By touch I found my facial features drastically rearranged and, when I examined my reflection in the one way mirror, I found my face and body was... off. That wasn't me. Damn them. I was a guy! At this moment my appreciation of the female form was at an all time low. Just... well I didn't want this. I was angry. And being so weak made me feel vulnerable. Not a fan.

Why had felt male last night when I slept. What gives with that? I mean how am I getting these dreams and memories of being Peter Parker whilst I sleep only to wake up a girl? It's like they're rubbing my nose in everything I've lost. I was Peter and not a girl... Without a clear answer or any way of getting one I put aside such dark thoughts. It was hard, and I suspected part of it was due to my altered state. I was unfamiliar with... these emotions.

At least my hands were free. Thank God for small mercies - the webbing had dissolved. I'd hate to have to explain that to anyone. Renfield in particular. Again - where the heck did the webs come from? I examined my fingers closely to find my index finger and forefinger were a bit different near the nail. There was an almost imperceptible join. Like a flap... I felt an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach, wondering how far their changes went.

Organic spinnerets? I thanked god again for small mercies. The webbing had not come from my abdomen. Now that would have been weird. Not that this wasn't weird. I paused as I considered. Was this weird? Yes. I was scared and angry and this was weird. Was I weird? God. No. I was just figuring out who I was now. My situation was so messy. I was a female clone with male memories. The female part was subtly different. It wasn't just physical. It was self perception. Emotions. Probably hormones too, affecting how I felt.. This was the hand life had dealt me. But what did it all mean? Was I a girl that wanted to be a guy? I think I'm a girl at least...and I'm used to being a guy...beyond that I don't really know. But I feel different. Was I really a girl though? Hmmm.

I checked. Oh. No. I was definitely a girl. I'm not an expert on these things but I was clearly no longer a guy and... well... it was what I had envisaged. Sorta. Not entirely. But in the ball park. Well there goes my dreams of homecoming with MJ. And a bunch of other stuff I bet. I can always have new dreams. Still... these mongrels had taken the dreams I'd had up till now. Any chance of a life with MJ was shot. That kinda made me angry. Angrier.

Good thing was that after my nights sleep I felt stronger. I guess my recuperative powers remain. My stomach rumbled loudly in my ears. Hungry. Damn I'm hungry. Hangry? Eying all the medical paraphernalia attached to me I decided I didn't need it. Out came the I.V. and... Ew, catheter. Off went the monitoring electrodes. I was still handcuffed to the gurney but I stood on my newly slimmed legs, bare ass hanging from my medical gown, swaying drunkenly. "Whrats frer bweakfasht?" I asked. Then my legs gave out and the gurney fell loudly atop me, pulled by the handcuffs.

Shamefacedly I righted it and climbed back in. A male nurse came over and disapprovingly started to hook up the equipment but I pushed him away. He was tall, square featured and quite fit, probably in his mid twenties with an ex military sense about him. The nurse grunted and retreated. "You're note ready yet," he said.

"Get her something to eat," a female voice instructed over a speaker and the nurse nodded. I looked up into the one way glass. That hadn't been Renfield. Someone else. The nurse soon returned with a tray of food, handing it angrily to me. I stared at the food. "Wrat is thris?" I asked in disgust as, with a shaking hand, I scooped some up with the spoon and let it drop wetly back into the bowl. What onomatopoeia was that exactly? Slop. "Gruel?" I asked, making a sour face.

"Baby food," the nurse said with a malicious grin. "Well minced up worms really. Sadly you're only able to eat mushed up bugs. Something else they did. You're more like a Spider now," the male nurse said with a sneer.

I swallowed, eyes widening. Oh you gotta be kidding me! I felt a sudden surge of anger and fear and my eyes threatened to tear up.

"Blain, please do not taunt Jessica. It's counter productive," a primly suited woman instructed as she entered the room. Her hair was pulled back and she wore horn rimmed glasses. Her voice matched the one from the speaker. Her face was porcelain white and her dark hair made her look like she stepped from a silent movie. "Ignore Blain. You're perfectly normal in your dietary needs Jessica. It's just that your stomach has never processed solids before. We're introducing you slowly to food. A bit like a starved man. Well woman," she explained. I read the name pass on her lanyard - Doctor Phillips.

"Sure thing doc," Nurse Blain agreed unapologetically. "I was only having a little fun with her. No harm intended."

My eyes widened with understanding and I scowled at him, my anger growing. Jerk, your little joke nearly gave me fits.

"Hmmm, very well. See to the others," the woman responded waving the nurse away.

Petulantly I pointed a pair of fingers at the nurses feet and twitched muscles experimentally. The spinneret muscles were new and weak but the target was close. There was a Fizzss sound, distinctly different to the familiar Thwypp of web shooters, and a glob of webbing shot out from my two fingers to ensnare the nurses feet. Blain let out a cry of surprise as he tripped and fell flat on his face. He turned back to me, daggers in his eyes. "Funny?" I asked slowly, carefully enunciating the question as the man angrily removed his shoes and left them webbed to the floor, walking out warily.

I tried some of the food. It tasted like apple compote. Hmm. Mouth feels different. Teeth aren't the same. I spooned another mouthful of food. It's good despite being mush.

The newly arrived woman turned to look at me. "Good Morning Jessica. I'm Doctor Phillips," she said, putting down a large file marked Peter Parker part 7 on my table. "You slept well I hope? I see you figured out your spinnerets."

I eyed the woman, unsure if she was referring to my accident in the middle of the night, my ears burning.

"I'm a Psychologist. I specialise in meta human psychology. I've worked at the Triskelion with both the Avengers and the inmates there, and now work for the CIA. I will be your personal psychologist Jessica." She patted the folder. "I've been reading Peter Parker's file. There is a lot to digest. He is quite young for the mantle of a hero." She smiled. "But I'm here to help you and not him."

I made a sour expression. We were the same person.

"We will be having daily sessions Monday to Friday. Our sessions are being recorded to be reviewed by my superiors and standard patient doctor confidentiality does not apply - due to your non person legal status. You are an EMD and property of the CIA after all." She paused to let her words sink in.

Non person legal status! Property? #%* that! I thought. "Wrats an EMD? You knrow I really hrate TLA's. They're sro... ridonks."

"Entity of Mass Destruction." She frowned. "And what does TLA mean?" Phillips asked cooly.

"Three Lretter Acronrym..." I said.

"Ah. Yes. Of course. The famous Spider-Man wit," She looked me over. "So based on available intelligence it appears that Peter Parker, and therefore you, have not used the services of a psychiatrist before. Is that correct?"

I grunted noncommittally.

"Let us begin then. How are you feeling today Jessica?" Doc Phillips asked.

"You knrow. Nrot myself," I responded warily feeling vulnerable. "And it'sh Peter," I corrected irritably. I felt slightly better. At least I'm getting the hang of speaking with my new mouth... I sound like a little kid though. Like a girl... cause you are Pete. My jaw clenched.

"Peter Parker?" Doctor Phillips took some notes, considered the dossier then shook her head and regarded me with sympathetic eyes. Ah the theatre of condescension. "I'll be blunt Jessica. Moving forward it's best to let go of your past. For you and the ones you love. You aren't Peter Parker and trying to hold onto that will only cause pain and confusion for everyone. This is all unexplored territory. But we need to understand who Peter Parker is and what motivates him for you to move forward. Because you aren't him."

"I ... hadn't... noticed," I grumbled petulantly, taking my time with the words. My ill humour was clear as I scooped another mouthful of the compote and shoveled it into my mouth. Don't let them know they're getting to you Pete. "Wrow. This tastes wonderful. The best meal I've ever had. Well technically it's the first meal I've ever had so it has to be the best... wonder if my tastes differ now. Will have to see I suppose." I made light of my situation. One of my old tricks.

"Right then." She paused dramatically. "Why does Peter Parker wear a mask?" Phillips asked, moving undeterred by my inane banter.

I kept silent as I toyed with my food, an unhappy expression on my face. I didn't want to talk about this but clearly I'm expected too. Perhaps I might get some useful information from Phillips, but my instincts told me to keep quiet. "It looks cool," I suggested. "You know. Dramatic. Like your pauses," I mocked.

"Does it have something to do with that tired cliché that with great power comes great responsibility?" ahe suggested.

She knew that? One of my key tenets... I sighed angrily. The way she'd mocked it I guessed I'd hit a nerve. She thought herself superior. It figured. But antagonism wouldn't help, no matter how good it felt. Time to start this basket weaving session and see what I can learn. "I do it tro... protect... Family ... and... friends," I responded. I feel like I'm betraying them and myself but I'd said this much to any number of cops and random people.

"MJ and Aunt May. Your classmates. Your work colleagues at the Bugle. Yes. Protect them from what?" Phillips asked, writing.

That simple sentence confirmed my fears. They knew about everyone. That was bad. My eyes grew moist and I nodded. This was my worst nightmare. Everyone that matters to me exposed...and I couldn't protect them. I pulled weakly against my restraint. "From... enemies," I stated simply. Enemies like you. You people know way too much about me. I tried to keep the anger from my voice.

"Are you sure?" Phillips pressed.

"Pretty. Sure," I responded darkly. I need to be careful not to give them too much.

Phillips put down her pad and smoothed her business skirt. "I have a number of theories I wish to explore with you today. Usually I take time to unearth a patients issues. But you don't have time. We are working to a deadline," she said.

"Dead is the operative word..." I agreed. They intended on wiping my mind after all.

"Correct. Firstly, we all wear masks, metaphorically speaking. SpiderMan. He is the mask that Peter Parker wears. Loud. Brash. Violent. A raging id let loose on the world. Peter Parker. The super ego. In control. A moral compass. Reserved. Intelligent. A genius based on what I've read in his file. I think Peter Parker enjoys the freedom of being a hero but is ashamed of Spider Man. He could not let himself be Spider Man if people knew it was him. It's not about protecting others but protecting himself. So he compartmentalises his life. Keeps everyone at a distance. Hence the mask," The doctor observed my response.

"You figured that... out all be yourself? Or did you read it... on the back of a chewing gum wrapper?" I chuckled thinly. "You're wrong. I... have enemies," I said.

"Like Otto Octavius and Norman Osborn? They both know who Peter Parker is. Consider how many of Peter Parker's enemies and allies know who he is," she pointed out.

I considered. Black Cat had seen my face. The Kingpin too. I sighed. Mary Jane. The X Men. They knew who Spider Man was. Nick Fury. I grunted. "Do you think I... could join the X Men? You know. Cause I'm an ex man..."

"You're deflecting Jessica," Phillips said.

"What... does it matter? You're going to wipe my mind soon and I'll be gone," I growled.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" she asked.

I stared. What the hell kind of question was that? I didn't respond. %*# her!

"I mean Peter Parker does have a death wish doesn't he?" she clarified.

Again I didn't respond. Her questions made me uncomfortable. Double %*# her! She doesn't know me.

"As I said. I have theories. One is that Peter Parker is trying to kill himself. Up until your Uncle's death his activities were rational. Seeking to use his abilities for personal gain. After Ben Parker's death Peter's actions are ... suicidal. He has constantly thrown himself into situations that should have killed him. Is his guilt so strong that he wants want to die? Do you share his death wish?" she asked.

"I don't want to die," I said with even certainty, resenting her suggestion. She didn't understand me. Probably couldn't.

"Just a theory worth exploring. We've invested a lot in you and it would be a shame if you got yourself killed..." Phillips shrugged.

"Oh %#* you," I muttered darkly.

She paused and wrote for a while. The silence stretched uncomfortably. I pushed my bowl away, my appetite gone. I hated this. The powerlessness. How weak and vulnerable and wrong I felt. How my emotions seemed to change on me. That they had me under a microscope.

She clicked her pen annoyingly and turned to look at me. "They think they can wipe your mind and the program is moving forward based on that assumption. For the next month there will be mental evaluations, physical rehabilitation and baseline testing. Then they wipe your mind and turn you into an agent. Train you properly," she explained clinically.

"So it's okay for you to murder me but suicide is not okay. A bit hypocritical. You want me for my body and not for my mind... a girl could get a complex," I sourly said.

"Honestly I'm not so certain they can wipe your mind. And even if they can there is no certainty that it will stick. Particularly with the link to the Prime..." she explained.

I nodded, liking that possibility. It gave me hope. "That sounds promising."

"What we're doing here is a... redundancy measure... in case the agent training doesn't stick. My job is to get you in the right head space Jessica. Make sure you are okay and not a mental wreck like some of the earlier phases. A rogue EMD that tries to reinsert herself into Peter Parker's life would be... embarrassing for the program. Unfortunate for your family and friends," Phillips explained, her face serious.

Embarrassing sounds like an understatement. Unfortunate...? Was that a threat or a warning? I considered, "You think... I want to take over my old life?" I asked. They fear exposure. They should...

"I don't know. That's a question you need to answer for yourself. I can tell that there have been cloning programs before. Unsuccessful programs. Clones that resented their Primes and tried to take over their lives. Those programs had to be canceled." She paused.

"That sounds very final," I observed not liking the implications. Something possibly worse than a mind wipe.

"Yes. Unfortunate for all parties involved. But your case is rather ... unprecedented. All phases have exhibited retention of Peter Parker's memories, to varying degrees. They are... more mature." Again she paused to let me digest her words.

Doc Phillips continued. "A clone is more like a twin. A physical duplicate with an independent mind of its own. If their ageing is accelerated they are immature and childish. But something links the minds of this projects clones to the Primes. We hadn't known Peter Parker had any psychic abilities. It's inexplicable."

"The Prime?" I repeated, brow furrowing as I considered. She was right. A clone shouldn't have the originals memories. The human mind is an infinitely complex thing. Chances are effectively zero that any two people, even if they shared genetics, would have the same memories. And I was still getting Peter's memories when I slept. I've been body swapped with Wolverine once before by Jean Grey. Could that be the cause? No. Jean wouldn't do this to me. Something else. The symbiote? Hells bells. Best not let them know my thoughts on that.

"I see you understand your unique situation," she said pleased. "Somehow you all remain linked to the Prime and when you sleep you relive his day. The dreams are mentally scarring... your nocturnal emissions and nightmare from last night," she said delicately but I felt irritated and embarrassed all the same. "This is a problem. It prevents all of you from moving on and realising your full potential."

"And it's annoying too," I observed still blushing. They know about last nights dreams. Of course they do. God how embarrassing! Putting aside the problem this presents for me it looks like their super soldier program has a major flaw. They clearly wanted a powerful agent unfettered by morals. My morality was a flaw to them. And if they decide this flaw cannot be resolved will they decide to start again? Will I be cancelled? It's not like they're bound by ethics. Why do I feel like I'm just a disposable asset to them? Is she fishing for reasons to end me?

Phillips smirked. "I bet. No. I want you to be an individual. All of you."

I nodded. "We're on the same page here, clones are people two," I observed wryly. Phillips shook her head at the double entendre. So this Prime mind link might mean they can't mind wipe me and make me into their docile super pet... And I have a shrink to assess me... Is she here to assess the risk I present to their program or to help me? Probably both. They must know I'll never be an assassin. What else could the CIA use me for? I'd probably help with benevolent activities... that didn't seem like them.

"Can we be serious please," Phillips said.

"Sorry, just cloning around," I joked. My gut tells me I need to play along with this head shrinker and tell her and whoever else is watching what they want to hear or it's goodbye mini Pete. Or maybe she's on my side in all this. Maybe. But I doubted it. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose to organise my thoughts.

Phillips eyebrow arched. "So do you think you will try to reinsert yourself into the Prime's life?"

Would I? It was my life. All I'd known. But it wasn't my life. I was the copy. The imposter. This... thing. Thinking about it made me so angry. Could I? It would be the end of Pete's secret identity and any chance of a sane normal life for him. I couldn't do that to him. This wasn't his fault. The risk to my friends and family was just too great. They might not know I existed but that didn't change my feelings for them.

Hi Aunt May. I'm your nephews's female clone Jessica. Why did the CIA clone him? Well because he's Spider-Man. Surprise! I can't see that conversation happening. All Pete's lies would come out and we'd both be on the streets. She'd hate both of us and rightly so... no there.

Oh hey MJ. Yeah. It's me Pete. Oh yeah. I'm a girl now. Isn't this totes cool? I know we broke up but this isn't awkward at all now. Now we're both girls we can be BFF's - we can, like, hang together at the mall, shop, talk about our crushes on boys, share makeup and stuff... No. Never happening.

Could I just turn my back on my life?

I could maybe lurk on the edges. Be a second cousin of Pete's, enrol in his school and live a vicarious version of my old life. Live a lie. That would be worse than turning my back on my old life... Even if the CIA let me... which they wouldn't. Maybe if I went to Sheild ... and then Nick Fury would own me instead.

But a life alone... Never to see those I loved. I'd be protecting the ones I loved though. Their safety was my responsibility. It was a bitter pill but I knew the answer. "Don't worry Doctor. There's no way I'm dragging this ridiculous clone saga back home to Aunt May and Peter Parker. She doesn't know about Spider Man. I'd have to tell her who Peter Parker really is if I ever wanted to explain this." I motioned at my new body. "I'd literally be betraying everything I stand for. And that's not happening. I want her to be safe. She's lost her husband. She's been through enough. I'm not going to ruin her life. Or... or Peters. No. He has his hands full juggling his own dramas without me jumping out of a closet and into his life."

"It's not just May Parker. What about Mary Jane Watson?" Phillips pushed.

I yawned, starting to feel tired. "I just broke up with Mary Jane to protect her. You think I'm going to try and get back together with her?" I snorted derisively and rubbed sleepy eyes. "I have a sinking suspicion that's not going to happen. Even if I wanted it too," I continued, touching my chest to emphasise my point. Yep. The truth hurts. I grimaced. "No. I wear the mask to protect the ones I love. But... this isn't a mask." I motioned at my new face. "This is me now. And there is still a Peter Parker. You have no need to worry, Pete and I are going our separate ways. There isn't room in his life for me. The only reason I would get back into his life would be if you guys threatened it. If you try to use that as leverage on me then it will end badly for everyone. You have my word on that. Tell your bosses that too," I stated. God. That's pretty much the truth. I sat there, the crushing weight of my own words baring down on me. Oh. No. I felt wetness in my eyes. My life as I knew it really was over.

"That's very ... insightful, Jessica. You're Peter Parker no more..." Phillips stated simply.

I up angrily at the Doctor. "Yeah. Woman's intuition," I muttered. My face was not angry but bleak. Jessica Drew? I don't like them naming me. But I'm not sure I have a choice.

Doctor Phillips nodded and considered my clearly troubled state. "It's a start. A good one. I think we're done for today. You look tired. You need more rest and I think you need to consider your situation more."

"Yeah. Um. Can I get some clothes? And can you get rid of the handcuffs?" I yawned.

"I think so. You seem to pose no risk of self harm," the doctor noted. "I'll put in a good word for you."

I nodded my thanks as I lay back down on my gurney and closed my eyes. I'll leave you alone Pete. But can you leave me alone... I wonder. I cleared my throat. "Hey doc? Is it self loathing to hate your clone?" I called.

Doctor Phillips did not respond as she scanned herself out of my cell.

I looked at the camera and smiled with anger evident on my face. "What you should be worried about is me coming after you." I webbed the camera lense.

Blain entered, unlocked my wrist cuff that kept me gurney bound and handed me three pieces of clothing. He also left wrist and ankle manacles on the gurney. "Get changed and put your jewellery on. The wrist cuffs go behind your back. Time for some PT Princess," he said. "If you're up to it."

I examined the clothing. Some kind of long sleeved leotard, a sports bra and sports panties. I rolled my eyes, uncertain whether I preferred the hospital gown over this. No. The leotard wasn't open at the rear. In some ways it was similar from my spider outfit.

I waited for Blain to leave. I didn't like him. He took his sweet time. On purpose I was sure. I turned my back to the one way mirror and clumsily walked over to the curtained alcove that also contained a shower. This time I didn't fall. Yay me. I am the amazing ambulator! Seriously walking was a small victory.

Piped music was turned on as I readied to change. Enya. I groaned as the strains of Orinoco Flow filled my cell. Blain must be torturing me. No one could like that music outside of an elevator. I pulled the curtains shut and changed into the smalls and leotard. I felt only mildly ridiculous. No tutu which was good and as I just said my spidey outfit was similar. It wasn't so much my clothes but my body that made me feel self conscious. I reminded myself I was angry. Angry meant I didn't dwell on other stuff.

As instructed I put on wrist and ankle manacles and then Blain returned and frogmarched me from my room, past a bunch of similarly locked doors to what could only be described as a gymnastics hall. I stumbled once but Blain caught me. "Watch your step bug girl," he grumbled as he guided me in and sat me down on a wooden bench. I still felt tired and weak but I resolved not to let this misogynistic clown see any weakness. There was no sign of my super strength or speed still which worried me.

I noticed that the floor had some give to it, a proper gymnastics floor. Interesting. There were ceiling hung climbing ropes and rings, parallel bars, trampolines, mats, balance beams, a few pommelled horses, horizontal bars, crash mats, spring boards and a bunch of wall and roof hung equipment I didn't recognise. Not a danger room but decent enough.

"You're not at full strength. Probably cause you're a girl," Blain said. He went and got himself a drink from the water fountain then returned and almost disdainfully undid my restraints. "You have an hour. The others were way more physically ahead of you by now... but they're freaks." He laughed. "But then so are you. Go do a circuit... if you can," he said nonchalantly as he left me, making sure to lock me in.

%*#* you I thought.

I sat on the floor and stretched out first, going through a number of different movements. My muscles weren't as elastic or limber as I remembered. New body I redundantly reminded myself. I started to push the stretches harder. I winced in pain but kept going, gritting my teeth. After fifteen minutes I was almost exhausted but I'd be damned if I'd let Blain be right. I was peeved.

Next I started some simple calisthenics. I couldn't hold anything for long. My body felt like it was made of lead and my muscles shook almost violently, but I worked through the pain. I grabbed a drink of water and then tried walking the balance bar. Two steps and I fell off. I did it again. Again.

These people would not defeat me. I'd get back what I'd lost. Anger was my friend. My motivator.

I approached the wall and tried to climb it. My fingers ached and slid. I forced myself, exerting every bit of will. My fingers stuck. I did three pull ups. Then my fingers gave out. Still forming? Must be. But it was coming back. Small victories.

When Blain returned he found me stretching again and seemed amused. "Can you walk?" He asked condescendingly as he dropped my 'jewellery' in front of me. I smiled without amusement as I put the manacles on. Walking back I didn't stumble even though my muscles quivered and my steps were shaky. I got to my gurney and sat, hiding my relief as Blain unlocked me. He motioned to some soup on the nearby table."Grasshopper stew bug girl. Yum yum."

"It's Spider," I corrected him. And I could tell it was pea and ham soup. It smelled wonderful. I'd definitely worked up an appetite. My mouth watered.

"Whatever freak," he said tersely as he turned and left. I contemplated webbing his feet. Nah. That was getting old.

"Blain?" I asked.

He turned around and eyed me. "What?" he asked irritably.

"You've got something on your chin," I said, pointing to my chin.

He went to touch his chin. Perfect. Fizzzs. I webbed his forefinger to his chin. "Think about it," I suggested with a smirk. Blain left in a foul mood and I felt much better.

After lunch an instructor arrived. I was put in manacles again and taken back to the gymnastics hall. My instructor introduced himself as Gong. He was a lean powerfully built man of Chinese extraction in his late twenties. Evidently one of the CIA's best combat instructors and he took me through a tai chi lesson. We didn't talk much. He instructed me on the forms and I listened and copied. My anger and resentment prevented my from engaging in conversation but evidently I was a good student as he was relatively pleased with my progress. After he left I went over the lesson and repeated the forms. Things were getting easier. Then Blain came back. His skin looked a bit tender on his chin. The must have pulled the web off too soon.

As Blain took me back to my room he paused and then said. "I've been thinking..." my spider sense went off as he pushed me over. I fell awkwardly and, as I rolled over to stand, he put a heavy booted foot down on my chest, pressing things I didn't like. I stared up at him, arms pinned behind me and hurting. "Listen freak. In this corridor they can see us on the camera but there is no audio. So we can talk without the doctors or scientists hearing." He rubbed his chin and ground his foot. I cried out. "Getting that webbing off my chin really hurt. You do anything cute like again and you won't just be fishing bugs out of your food. That I promise you. Do we understand each other?"

I stared up at him. He wasn't angry. Just serious.

I was angry. "Go to hell," I snarled.

"You got a temper kid. I'll give you that," he sighed. "There are worse people here than me freak. You need to save that anger for the people doing this to you. I'm just a cog in the machine..," he helped me stand and I angrily twisted my shoulder out of his grip. Or I tried to. With a disappointed sigh he pushed me hard into the wall. "Stop it."

"You're as bad as them," I growled, face and body pinned to the wall. "Beating up a defenceless... person."

"You're not a person. They grew you... you're a thing. And it was you that made this physical. I didn't lay a hand on you until you started in with your webs. So blame yourself." He looked at the hatred in my eyes. "You really don't get it do you? Gong. Phillips. Reilly. You need to worry about them."

"So that makes being a douche ok?" I snapped.

"Heh. Sue me," He sneered as he pulled me roughly away from the wall and guided me to my cell. Once inside he let me go. "So bug girl. Can I trust you enough to take off your manacles?" He asked warily.

Damn him! I hated him. I hated everyone here.

"Freak?" he asked.

"Fine," I snapped.

"Good." He undid my manacles. "I'm glad we had our little talk freak," he said as he turned to leave. "Dinner is stewed worms..."

"Blain?" I called as I eyed the mashed food. It smelled good.

"Yeah," he turned back warily.

"You're a %*%," I said, thumb toying with my spinster fingers. I really wanted to get even.

He nodded. "Glad we cleared that up leach girl. Sweet dreams. Don't let the bed bugs bite," he said.

"It's Spider-Woman," I corrected angrily, rubbing my swollen face.

"Whatever you say freak. Doesn't matter. You'll be gone soon." He shut the door to my cell. Then Enya came back on. Sail away huh? I ate my meal in silence. These guys were going to pay. All of them.

Issue 3: Bargaining

On my second nights sleep I updated on Peter Parker's memories from the previous day. That was something of a head trip, no joke intended. The update wasn't the same as when I'm a passenger. Its hard to explain. They're... more like an annoying recap episode. You know, old footage summarising things for the viewer. Cause they're his memories. Memories aren't the same as living the event.

They're jammed into my head all the same though, pushing my own limited memories about. It's like mixing colours and whites in the wash, everything all bleeding together when you know they should be separate. It's a bad analogy but, well, there it is. I know they're real even though I didn't live them. They aren't mine. But they are. And they sit together with mine. Like I said, weird.

For example this morning whilst I was having my basket weaving session with Doc Phillips I also fought a guy in a giant rhino suit on the way into school. Fun mix of memories. They're each distinct but also both jumbled together. Oddly it seems appropriate.

My recollection of school was the pits and it coincided nicely with my session with Gong and then my encounter with Blain. MJ was talking to some guy so of course I got all jealous and headed off to wallow in self isolation and misery. I'd broken up with her for good reasons so I really had no cause to be jealous! Argh! Could have put that memory to the music of 'I'm gonna eat some worms'... I really should have spoken to her but I think I wanted to be all melodramatic. God I am such a self absorbed Emo twit. Blain pushing me about in the corridor was a nice counterpoint to that.

Not to play at oneupmanship... but what the old me is going through is nothing. Cause at the same time I'm in a cell, a female copy of myself, will probably never see my loved ones again, will never have the relationship I want, and I'm slated for a mind wipe to become their mindless cat's paw... Yeah my memories win first world problem Pete. I'm a failed science experiment made by evil men. I'm not even real, I'm just this thing. I might even be the thing that Spider-Man has to fight. I might even hurt the ones I love... I hate this. I might be the reason why he can't be with MJ. Total head trip.

After all those memories hit I got to vicariously live what was happening in Pete's life concurrent with my sleeping. In some ways this passenger stuff was a welcome distraction from my recap memories or the clone blues and female imprisonment that dominated my waking hours. In some ways it just made things flat out worse. But I don't have a choice in the matter. I have to sleep.

The passenger stuff started after school when I was surfing the Net and looking at all the flamers hating on my take down of the Rhino. I was getting peeved. As I should be but for some reason I was less annoyed than Pete because of my own circumstances. Doc Phillips mentioned something called the Rashomon effect - where an event gets a contradictory interpretations by individuals. So what I saw and felt was not the same as what Pete saw and felt.

-Was this free will?-

I was distracted by the phone. "Yello?" No one spoke, they just hung up. Hmm. Weird. Unknown number. I rolled my eyes and went back to reading the flames, growing incensed.

-But not incensed.-

The phone rang again so I answered. "Hello!" I said, a little angrily.

-And not angry.-

"Uh hi is this Peter Parker?" an unfamiliar girl's voice inquired hesitantly.

"Yes?" I responded. Probably a telemarketer. I prepared to hang up.

-I really shouldn't though.-

"This is... Kitty Pryde." She said. Kitty Pryde. Holy %#. I stared at the phone picturing the girl from the X-Men. She can phase through stuff... "Uh do you remember me?" I felt a sense of dread.

"How did you get this number?" I asked in shock.

-I was less worried about the exposure of my secret identity than first world problem Pete. Kitty knew who I was after all.-

"Information," she stated simply.

"Oh." That made sense.

"Um, yeah, sorry to call you out of the blue and all but I was wondering..." she trailed off and the silence stretched out awkwardly.

"Hello?" I prompted.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" she asked quickly.

"Uh, School," I responded, unclear what she was asking.

-Wait. How could you be this dense Pete. Do you not get that she is asking you out? Do I have to connect the dots for you?!-

"I mean, like, after that?" she said, sounding tense.

"Why? Is everything okay?" I asked concerned.

-She is asking you out. Argh. This is painful!-

"Yeah. No. What?" she asked, confused.

I was getting confused to. This conversation was totally non-sequitur. "Is there something going on with Wolverine again, or-"

-You're confused? What about me?!-

"No, no, no this is, um, like I'm asking you if you want to hang out with me, like, uh, after school," she suggested.

"With the X-Men?" I attempted to clarify. That could be fun. Especially with how my life was currently. You are an idiot Mr Parker.

-Oh. My. God. Someone shoot me. This is worse than when Black Cat threw up on me... Earth to Peter! She is asking you out!-

"No. Just... me," she said quietly.

I straightened in my chair. "Really?" Wait. Was she asking me on a date!

-Oh thank god I figured it out. I thought we were smart. Evidently not.-

"Yeah," she said.

"Uh, yeah... yeah!" Hell yeah. That would be sweet.

-I agree.-

"Really?" she asked almost surprised.

"Yeah," I affirmed with a grin.

-Don't blow this you chump... you are so going to blow this. I just know it...-

"You don't have a girlfriend do you?" she asked with concern.

I considered MJ. She was off with that guy. "No."

"You promise?" she pressed, sensing my hesitation.

"I did, but I don't anymore. It's a whole thing. But no- I do not have a girlfriend." I didn't really want to go into this.

-Yeah. Don't go into this Pete. First smart thing you've done.-

"Man, I'm sorry I worded it that way. It was just-" she started to apologise.

"No, it's ok. I under-"

"What time do you get out of class?" Kitty interrupted. I was glad.

"3:30," I said. This was a date!

"You want to meet there or-?" Kitty enquired.

"Yeah, sure, yeah," I readily agreed.

"Okay." She seemed pleased.

I sure was. I frowned. School... this had to be a Peter Parker thing. "Hey, um, don't-"

"What?" she asked getting worried.

"Don't come in costume. Or uniform or whatever you guys call-" I started.

-Good thinking-

"Oh, I know that.. duh," she laughed.

"Okay, just making sure, I've had some close calls and-"

"Yeah, I was there for a couple of them," she agreed happily.

"That is true," I said with a grin.

"But you know, if not for those I wouldn't have- um so 3:30 where?" Kitty finished.

"Midtown High, Queens," I supplied.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay. Um, Kitty?" I started.

"Yeah."

"Thanks for- Thanks for calling like this. This was pretty cool of you," We hung up. I stared at the phone. Grinning. Best part of my day. My week. (USM Annual 1)

-I agree.-

So awkward. So fresh and new and exciting. I turned back to my computer and googled the X-Men. There Kitty was. I stared at her. The girl who'd asked me out on a date. I think I'm... well I don't know. It's definitely a crush. It's great. I hope we both agree this is great. But I also felt a stab of jealousy. That was unexpected.

So was this a rebound thing? No. She'd asked me out. Cause Kitty Pryde was... wonderful. A sweet Jewish girl. A member of the X-Men. Nervously asking me out on a date. I liked that. Kinda innocent. Uncertain. It was... exciting.

And unlike MJ she could take care of herself and understood all this hero stuff. That was the best part.

Unlike Black Cat she was a girl I could take home to meet Aunt May. Perhaps. Black Cat to Kitty. Hmm, was there a pattern there? No. Just a coincidence.

Then I was going to bed. Oh. No. They were meant to wake me... why aren't they waking me? Wake up!

The dream was surreal. It was twilight. Neither night nor day but an indeterminate space between. In the distance I could see the Queensboro Bridge and I felt a twinge of foreboding menace. But the two dimensional cityscape dominated. Deep purples and black blues and burnt reds. This dream was like the others but unlike them. There was a sense of... hope.

Kitty was there in her X-Men uniform. She seemed shy and coltish. There was awkwardness there but there was also a strength. I felt it. Something special about her. There was a larger than life aura to her. And a sense of mutual enjoyment in each other's company. We were together and it felt so right. So full of possibilities.

The sun was rising. We were heroes watching a brand new day dawn. The city emerged from the dark colours and the somber gave way to a myriad of bright sparkling tones. An idyllic euphoria suffused the city, beautiful and fragile as it awoke. Together we stood guardian over it. Protecting it and... one another. Making each other stronger. Equals. Able to deal with anything thrown at us.

Kitty turned to me. Oh. Great. There go our clothes. Wait. Not. Again.

I awoke panting as before but most like from the dream with Black Cat. This time I hadn't webbed myself. Still... wow. Clearly Pete really liked Kitty. He had a crush. By sharing that dream with me I had more than a crush. I groaned. I think... I'm in love. Or lust. God I don't know. I get why these dreams are a problem though. "Thanks for waking me up," I called as I panted, Kitty's face still firmly in my mind.

"This was your wake up call Jessica. Don't make threats to the camera. Those above me are not pleased," Ben Reilly said. Bloody Renfield.

I lay there awake, trying to separate my feelings from Peter's. It was impossible. We were the same person inside. My unique life experiences so far were too limited. Envy and jealousy were mine. Anger and empty depression were mine. And I feared unrequited love would be mine. He should call it off with Kitty. For me. Cause I sensed nothing but heartbreak there for me. But he didn't know about me.

I wanted what he had. I wanted his life. No matter how terrible he thought it was I wanted it. I wanted school. I wanted home. I wanted Aunt May's cooking and anger. I wanted her to care about me. Even her disappointment and frustration would be welcome. I wanted an exgirlfriend to worry and drama about. I wanted what was developing with Kitty Pryde. I wanted the thrills of fighting villains. I wanted the frustration of people hating Spider-Man. I wanted my life back.

I looked about my prison, the camera, the curtained shower, the one way glass, the sense of being watched, prodded and measured. I looked down at my female body. I didn't want this.

I wanted Kitty Pryde as much as Pete. To be honest, thanks to his dream, I suspected I wanted her more. And I'd never, ever have her...

I am Peter's sexual confusion. I am Peter's existential crisis. I am Peter's living tautology. I am Peter's snowclone. I thought this as my muscles ached. I wore a t-shirt and track pants, hair held back with a hair tie. I stood on the practice mat, holding the form and moving slowly, purposefully.

"Focus Jessica!" Gong instructed firmly.

"Yeah, yeah," I responded, brow beaded with sweat, bringing my focus back onto the matter at hand. I am Peter's yin. I shook off the random thoughts and focused on the precise movements of the forms and tried to let them flow. Second class in as many days. Should have stretched more after all my practice yesterday but I was too tired. Muscles feel smashed now. But my strength is gradually returning, I'm almost human strong. And my endurance is increasing.

"Good. I have seen the videos of the Primes fighting technique. Fast, strong, agile, utterly amazing. But undisciplined. This will give you discipline," The master continued, pushing m elbow up and then showing me the correct movement. "Your rehab physiotherapy is also intended to give you new skills and, I hope, the mental discipline to help you cope with situations you find yourself in."

We moved as a pair through the forms in decent harmony. I was actually kind of enjoying this. And the physical activity was a welcome distraction from my thoughts. That update on Pete's love life last night was confusing. Arranging a date with Kitty Pryde followed by that intense dream. Training was handy not to crush on her... so confusing. I felt like a voyeur... and my emotions were way too intense now. I needed this diversion.

"So Gong, what do you do for the CIA when you aren't rehabbing super soldiers," I enquired.

Gong smiled thinly. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked.

"Yeah," I responded

"So can I," He said curtly then changed subjects. "Whilst you appear 15 your body is still young and developing, most significantly your prefrontal cortex. Reilly tells me that in this formative period your more mind remains more open to learning. This might only be your second lesson but you move almost as a rank one already when you focus. Remember. Relaxation and harmony, flowing motion, round and natural movements, coordination of the whole body," Gong instructed.

I nodded. I like the freedom of being Spider Man, the physical exhilaration is ... well thrilling. I want that back. And Gong gets that. He's a decent enough guy as well. May as well make lemonade from these lemons.

"But don't overdo it Jessica. I saw that you practiced for most of yesterday until you were utterly exhausted. I can tell you're sore and it's hindering my classes. Do not let your inner demons drive you to ruin. This is your third day awake. One must crawl before one walks," Gong advised.

That's who I am I decided as I nodded. You're not changing who I am. You might change my body and my wardrobe. Sports bras. Jeez! But I am who I am.

"Life is change, constantly shifting circumstances that we have to adapt to. Living is dealing with that change," Gong said.

I frowned in surprise. "Are you reading my mind?"

"Hardly. I can scarcely understand what you are going through. But your fears are clear on your face and Tai Chi philosophy might help you deal with them," he suggested. We completed the twenty fourth form in silent concentration. I went and got a drink. "You're doing well today. Practicing I see, but not too much... You're still forming."

"Yes Master Gong, it shall be so," I said in clipped English, lips moving out of sync with my words in mimicry of a badly dubbed Kung fu flick.

Gong seemed unamused. "I can see why you're in the super soldier program," He said. "But don't get smart. There is always someone better..."

"Thanks. But, well, I'd really like to practice some sparring. I feel up to it and, um, I'm at normal human strength at the moment. I don't know how long that will last. I'd really like to test myself on an even playing field with you," I said.

Gong grinned. "I didn't want to push you too soon, but I think you're ready to try." He motioned me to come forward. We faced off and he bowed then readied himself.

I moved forward and led with a fast low spin kick which Gong jumped and then countered with a rapid flurry of punches. I blocked as I back stepped, then grabbed at a punch. Before I had superhuman speed and strength. Now I didn't. I missed the grab and left myself open. My spider sense tingled as Gong kicked out and breath exploded from my lungs as I arced up and then landed flat on my back on the mat, stunned. "Ow," I moaned, clutching my stomach. I didn't like losing.

"Are you okay Jessica?" Gong asked.

"Nothing wounded but my pride," I responded honestly. I didn't like being called Jessica but I let it slide. My sessions with Gong were useful I felt certain. No point in getting on his bad side.

"You know..." Gong proceeded to dissect the fight and show me a number of possible counters and moves I could have made, then linking them to the forms.

I absorbed what he said. I felt that my fighting technique was rudimentary at best. Without super speed, strength and reflexes I needed every edge I could get. I could use my webbing, spider sense and wall crawling grip but I liked this mundane challenge.

"You're quite good but not overly skilled. You rely too much on your powers and your balance needs work - without your powers you need to be more conscious of how you move until it is unconscious. Tai chi is one fighting style but there are many. With training and practice you can move between them as need dictates. A normal human with sufficient training and skill might come close to defeating Spider-Man. But if you had the right training I suspect you would be formidable indeed."

We continued to have bouts, Gong defeating me every time with little effort. Each time he would explain what I did wrong and provide advice on how to better respond to the circumstances that lead to my defeat. I did land one blow but that didn't even seem to phase him and he countered with unusual strength sending me flying back. That was unexpected. I started to review the attack in my mind but Gong continued his attack, my spider sense going off. I did a backwards somersault, barely evading as I danced away. On impulse I produced a short webline which I stretched tight between my widespread hands and used to divert his next few punches.

"Interesting..," he observed as he double punched and grabbed at it two fisted. I let it go and he pulled it back to throw it away. Instead the web stuck to his hands the elastic ends sprang back and further entangled his wrists. "Huh... from my talks with Blain I know this takes two hours to dissolve. That's annoying..." He moved suddenly and the webbing snapped. "Good thing I'm not Blain."

I eyed him speculatively. The force needed to snap my old webbing was beyond most people. Was he super powered? I wasn't sure. He was definitely strong and skilled. That was it. We stopped for a drink. After that he showed me some of the basic throwing, grappling and strike techniques of Judo, then went through a number of other martial arts techniques, showing key elements and moves. I repeated them carefully, guided by his exacting eye. "Huh. I see there are some similarities in all of them," I observed.

"Yes. There is no perfect martial art. Some are more useful in certain circumstances than others. All are grounded in principles of physics - and with your keen scientific mind you can see that I am sure. We should try some of the various rope and chain based techniques. Seems like they may be worth learning."

"Enter the Spider!" I said in mock dubbed voice.

"Perhaps. I think grapples might be good to practice as well with your sticky fingers..."

I nodded. As Gong left I considered what I had learned and started to practice, evaluating how I had previously fought and how I would in the future. I had much to learn it seemed.

"I've come across numerous powered patients displaying body dysmorphia before - BDD. It's a mental illness involving obsessive focus on a perceived flaw in appearance," Phillips explained, coming to the end of our second session. "The sufferer can feel ostracised and unloved, believing that the people around them view them negatively or humiliate them as a consequence of their perceived defects," Doc Phillips said.

"Like I'm perceiving I have girl parts, that I am alone and unloved. It's not paranoia if they're out to get you Doc. Thanks to Renfield my body is nothing like it should be. Move on," I told the doctor.

"Renfield?" she asked.

"Ben Reilly... I call him Renfield it's a Literary reference. He's Dracula's pawn, a bug eating madman living in an insane asylum seeking immortality... it seemed apt given the circumstances. Someone higher up in the CIA is pulling his strings I am sure," I said.

"Ah. Yes. Renfield Disorder. I'm sure Ben would dislike the allusion," Phillips said.

"I'm as concerned for his feelings as he is for mine," I stated.

"So. Which parts of your body do you feel most self conscious about?" Doc Phillips asked.

I looked at her mildly. "Where should I start?" I responded. "Look, I'm alive. For now. Personally I think I'm doing ok in spite of what you've done to me. I think I could maybe work for the CIA-"

"FBI," she corrected. I frowned. Renfield had said CIA. I didn't like the inconsistency.

"FBI then. I could be an agent without you guys wiping my mind," I offered. "I mean being Spider-Man isn't just the powers. It needs judgement. Motivation. Willpower. You wipe my mind and you're only getting half the package. This would be domestic work right? I could fight the good fight to protect the American Way."

"Sadly that's not part of the project. Our brief is quite specific," she responded.

"Well perhaps you need to review your brief..." I argued. "I don't want to die. There is no need to murder me. I could be of use to you-" I tried to negotiate.

"You present too much of a risk to the project. I doubt you can change. This is best for everyone.

"I think we are done for the day Jess. I'll see you again tomorrow." With that Phillips stood and left.

I grimaced as Blain put the music on. Enya. "Oh joy," Soon after Blain came in and gave me my lunch.

"Hey freak. You'll like this. Cockroache risotto..." It was French fries, sausages and mash. I was off.

The usual insults were easy to ignore. I ate in silence as I considered what I could say to convince them not to erase my mind. It was hanging over my head like an ominous cloud. Were these people with the CIA or FBI? Or something else? An institution perhaps. Military or industrial. Was it S.H.E.I.L.D.? I never really did trust Nick Fury. Oscorp? That would be bad. Trask Industries? I just didn't know.

After lunch I went to the gymnasium and, watching the time, did about three hours of exercise. I as at human level strength now. It worried me that it wasn't coming back to superhuman levels. I looked at the time. Whilst they kept the place in perpetual darkness or artificial light they had clocks. It was three pm. Close to the end of school. Time for Pete's hot date with Kitty Pryde.

I'd been thinking about this all day. Should I be a passenger to their date or just get the memories? I really wanted to be a passenger. But I knew I'd be setting myself up for a fall. Kitty didn't know about me. I didn't exist for her. And if we ever met... what? She wouldn't see me as anything other than an incomplete copy of Pete. Lacking the important parts of a boyfriend. God was I lacking. Certainly there wouldn't be any romantic interest from her. Well there was no certainty but I figured she'd probably run in fear. Or pity me. Pity would be worse. And it was wrong to intrude on their date. But... I swallowed. I liked her. Pete liked her and I was Pete. This promised to be the weirdest love triangle ever. If it was love. I didn't know but I wanted to find out.

So I called Blain and allowed him to escort me back to my room. I showered, dried and changed. I wanted to make a good impression after all. I sighed. I was going on a date I thought as I looked about my cell. And you can all go to hell... (go read USM annual 1).

Issue 4: Depression

I shivered awake, the remnants on the day I'd shared with Pete and Kitty still fresh in my mind. I grinned. That had been a great first date. Perhaps the best one ever. Peter Parker was a lucky guy. And Kitty Pryde... wow. I longed for my old life at that moment. Ached to be with Kitty. But it could never be. Because no matter how much I wanted it I wasn't Peter. Not anymore. I sighed. Maybe this had been a bad idea. I felt a bit like a stalker. A peeping Tom. Somehow... Unclean. It was one thing to get his memories. It was another to purposefully follow him like this. I felt guilty. But it was the only good thing in my life. The rest was so... depressing. No. It was my life damn it. Mine! And they'd taken it from me... they couldn't make me feel guilty. And besides I'd be dead and gone soon. Mind wiped. This holding on to what I'd lost didn't hurt anyone. I may as well get what I could out of what little life I had left. No one could begrudge me that...

I frowned as I realised that something had woken me up. I was cold. My covers were off. What the?! I'm not alone. Someone had lifted the covers letting cool air into my bed. Oh jeez. Someone stood over me.

"Hey. I'm Krystal, make some room," a girl nervously said. What the? She'd removed her outer clothes and shoes. She stood awkwardly in a tshirt and was moving to climb into bed with me.

I stared then held up a hand to push the girl away. "Umm. I'm sorry. Who are you?"

"Krystal. I just said. They paid me to sleep with you. Lots of money. I don't get anything if I don't. So move over. I really need the money," the girl said, smiling unconvincingly. Her voice sounded a little scared. She looked to be young, about fifteen or sixteen. In the dark it was hard to tell.

"Um. They're paying you?" I asked in bewilderment.

"Yeah. Well they said they would. I'm having doubts now. And I don't do this for fun," the girl responded tightly as she climbed in.

I climbed out, clearly uncomfortable. This whole situation scared me, worse than dealing with my villains gallery. "But that's illegal," I said inanely. She looked... cute. From what I could tell she was definitely scared.

"What are you, a cop?" Krystal asked, looking annoyed as her eyes flicked to the cameras.

"No, just a, well, a concerned citizen," I responded. Something was off here. She smells. Where did they get this girl?

"Listen, I'm a consenting adult. This is a victimless crime. It's a time honoured profession and all that," Krystal said.

Underage prostitution is not victimless... I looked doubtful. "Well I'm not an adult. I'm fifteen. And they monitor this room, both audio and visual. Everything. I'm not making a movie for these people... I'm not doing this. Period."

"Okay ..." Krystal sounded even more scared. "So am I... Er. So this is illegal then? We're the same age. So I don't think it is... Jeez. They said you were into girls. Kitty or something was your

girlfriend's name."

Oh god, they'd noticed me going to bed early for the date with Kitty and had gotten me another date... that was just wrong. "I don't know. I'm not a... Er. You now. A lesbian," I said. Was I? I wasn't really a girl... even if I looked like one... I didn't want to deal with this. Maybe they should just mind wipe me and get this over with.

"They were offering crazy money so, like, I said I was into girls too. I mean, cause, it's not my kinda thing but, well, how bad could it be with a girl? Guys just treat you like, you know, an object or worse. They're mean jerks but, well, I can deal with that. Act ... you know? Some girls can get bitchy but aren't quite the same. Not as bad... mostly ... so I figured, um, why not, especially if the money was good? It's not like a homeless runaway has many options. I mean I can't afford the luxury of innocence or even love. That ship sailed a long time ago. So. This just seemed..." Krystal shrugged helplessly.

Oh. Damn. That's harsh. I nodded. "Treated like an object? Yeah. Well I'm not... a guy. So what are they paying you for exactly?" I asked.

"To sleep with you," Krystal said resignedly. "If they ever pay me. I'm starting to think I made a bad mistake."

"Their exact words?" I asked. It's Friday night. Gong and Phillips won't be here till Monday. This doesn't feel like something Phillips would do, must be someone else. But what?

"Yeah," Krystal said.

"Well. It's a small bed and a bit tight but I don't mind sharing it. Just to sleep," I said hesitantly. "Only to sleep. Contract fulfilled and all that," I suggested, forcing a smile.

"I guess that could work," Krystal held up the covers and I reluctantly climbed back in. It was a tight fit.

I sniffed. "I don't mean to be rude. But... there is a hot shower in the corner and that drawer there has new, never before used underwear. Below it are new t-shirts. I have some sports bras. Not sure they'll fit. I'm a bit flat..." I was rambling. What was I saying?

"Hot shower. Oh hell yes! It's been like five days!" Krystal said, fear and worry reduced as she eagerly took me up on the offer, jumping out of the bed and heading to the shower. "You're not flat. I'd say we're about the same size."

I lay back and stared at the ceiling. Was this what would happen to me if I ran? Homeless, on the streets, selling my body? Is that what they're trying to tell me? Or are they trying to get me more used to my body. Take advantage of a down on her luck street kid. Like I'm going to go along with that! That pisses me off! God. This world is a toilet sometimes. Krystal seems so powerless. But she'd mentioned Kitty. This must be some kind of psych test.

Over the sound of the shower Krystal called. "So what is your deal? Are you a prisoner or something?"

"Something. Better to not ask too many questions. Do you know where we are?" I asked concerned. I didn't want to cause problems for the girl, hopefully they would let her go, but any information about the outside world was useful.

"Uh. No. They blindfolded me. I was worried they were disappearing me. I hope this isn't that. People talk about it on the streets. Thought it was urban myths at first but I had a friend, Derrick, that disappeared. Someone told me they saw him get into a big black van. I think it might be like the one I got into... and then, well, he was gone. Just like he never existed. It's scary."

I considered. Kidnaping street kids? Were there other super soldier programs? Of course there were. But were they using street kids. It made a sick kind of sense. "No. I hope this isn't that. I hope. So where do you live?"

"There is a place. An old factory. Near the warves. I sleep there sometimes," Krystal called. "But I move around."

"Oh yeah. I think I know it. Hey! Room service. Blain? Some food for my guest please?" I called as I lay there, my back to the shower as Krystal took her time showering then finished up, dried, got fresh clothes and dressed. Some food was pushed under the door.

"These really are new. Wow. This prison has great room service," Krystal observed.

"Yeah. And you don't have to tip," I agreed.

Krystal was dressed and climbing under the sheets. "This beats the factory and some of the other squats I've used. Not a fan of the locked doors though. God I hope they don't stiff me."

Jess nodded. Yeah. You could end up as a stiff with these people. God it's cramped but not... well... unpleasant... I decided. I lay with my back to Krystal. This closeness is... I wiped an errant tear from my moistening eyes. I've been on tenterhooks the whole time. I didn't realise I was missing human contact. I sniffled.

"Er. Are you ok?"

I grunted affirmatively. "Fine."

"I didn't catch your name," Krystal said.

"No. Sorry, you didn't. Best not to know," I said.

"Oh," Krystal looked at the camera and the locked door. "Oh," Then she whispered in my ear. "Listen. I took video of the van and driver. Got his face real good. Posted it on my Twitface feed under #kidnapvan before I approached the van."

I considered. "Do you still have your phone?"

"No. They took it," Krystal said. "I'm in trouble aren't I?"

I turned about to face Krystal and in a hushed voice I told her what I knew. "Yeah. These people are bad. They're doing illegal genetic manipulation. If they've been kidnaping street kids then it's worse than I thought."

"Really?" Krystal asked.

I nodded mutely. Krystal buried her face in my chest and started to cry. I put my hands about her and hugged her, trying to calm her. I felt bad for what I'd said but my gut told me that she was a prisoner like me. She cried herself to sleep, tears on my neck. I lay there feeling terrible. And lay there. Sleep did not come. It's good to just have some company. Someone there. But I kinda wished Krystal wasn't here. I chuckled dryly. A girl in bed with me. And I'm a girl. Damn it. The old Parker luck huh? I lay there waiting for dawn, for Peter to awake so I could sleep. It was a long time coming.

"I'm not sure I get modern art," I said as I looked at the polka dot sculpture. I tilted my head, hoping that the change in perspective might provide more insight. Nope. "Yayoi Kkusama. Kinda psychedelic."

"Yep yep. And this one. Takashi ... Murakami? This artist is out there no doubt," Kitty agreed with a mild widening of her eyes. "Mr DOB is cool but some of the sculptures... I think he's going for pure shock value. Let's move on..."

"Yeah. You know I prefer Chiho Aoshima's stuff. Or maybe Chiharu Shiota's..." I observed. "Japanese culture is... different."

Kitty laughed. "Duh. You're just used to the American culture... or just monoculture. Have you ever been anywhere else in the world?" She asked.

"Heh. No. Oh wait. South America once... I think. But why would I want to?" I responded.

-hmmm-

Kitty eyed me disbelievingly. "Why wouldn't you? Art. Culture. Language. Food. Architecture. History. Different perspectives. Different ways of living. Different priorities... The USA is just... so small and insular. I want to see the world," She explained.

-Her enthusiasm was so... contagious. She has such passion. God that sounds like an adventure.-

I shrugged noncommittally. "I have things I need to do here. Commitments. Maybe one day though."

-I'd like to see it with you. I'd love to escape. I don't have any commitments...-

We moved on. It was an odd gallery. Located on the fifteenth floor of a modern hi-tech office building near Central Park owned by the Yashida Corporation. Being Saturday morning the rest of the building was pretty much empty. In their e-mail exchange of the night before Kitty had mention she could get passes from Wolverine. It was pretty exclusive and well beyond anything I could afford to see. The art hadn't interested me much but sure Kitty did so we'd agreed to meet.

My spider sense went off to the sounds of crashing and screaming from the room beyond. "Oh damn. We have trouble. I need to change into my spider suit. You should do the same... what do you have under your clothes? I mean, you came prepared right. Er, you have your outfit on underneath right?" I blushed as i realised I was picturing her out of her clothes. Sort of.

"Peter, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that..." Kitty said with a cute grin as she phased through the floor.

"You there! Stop! Come here! You're my prisoner. Don't hide in there, whatever that room is," a voice yelled. I looked back to see an overweight dude stuffed into a black onesie, the paunch of his stomach overhanging his skin tight Lycra pants. He held two techno guns and they were somehow carrying three gallery patrons behind him. He looked kind of like a muffin the way his stomach hung out... Professor Muffin? I rolled my eyes as I darted into a janitor's closet and pulled the door shut. I looked around as I changed, noting all the cleaning gear.

I timed it perfectly. As Professor Muffin fired one of his techno guns at the door and destroyed it I leapt out. "Supplies!" I informed him as I suddenly exited in an explosion of timber from the supply closet, kicking the villain in his prodigious stomach, catching him by, well, surprise.

"Curse you!" he said as he waved an arm reflexively. One lady screamed and another swore and the man grunted and looked horrified as they flew through the air and out through the nearby window, the glass shattering. I twisted in the air, webbing furiously, narrowly avoiding disaster as I caught the three thrown civilians in hastily cast web nets strung between the buildings outside. "Jeez. What's your beef Professor Muffin? Throwing people out of windows isn't nice."

The guy in the black onesie snarled. "It's Klepto!" he declared as he tried to turn his odd ray on me.

"Ow. I'm sorry. That sounds kinda contagious. Can you get a cream for that?" I said as I deftly dodged the weird energy beam. A statue got caught instead and was thrown out the window.

"No you idiot. My name is Klepto. The worlds greatest thief..." the hooded villain said in exasperation, pointing his beam gun at where I had just been standing and sending a painting spinning through the air. I spun in the air, kicked off the wall and sped by the guy.

"Hmm. Judging by your actions so far I would have thought

Defenestrator suited you better," I noted. As if to prove my comment a bunch of small plastic sculptures were caught by Klepto's ray and went hurtling out the window.

"Argh. My beautiful art. Stand still you buffoon!"

I laughed as I webbed the guys hands together. "You're new to this aren't you. I dodge, crack wise and then wham! You're out and then the cops take you away. I don't stand still," Klepto fired two fisted, shredding the web, grazing me and sending a digital art installation sparking out the window. "You know you might want to consider The Critic as a name given how you're treating that art."

"I am Klepto!"

"We named the dog Klepto..." I said as Kitty phased up through the floor behind him. She merely waved her hands through his guns and the complex electronics within them sparked and failed.

Klepto let out a cry as I finished him off with a single punch. "Nice tag teaming. Hang on a sec." I webbed up the wannabe villain then swung out and rescued the three terrified people from the web nets, one at a time. Each clung to me in terror. "Fifteen storeys up. Once my webbing dissolves it's a long way down. The fire department might not even be able to reach them," I explained to Kitty after they'd all rushed off. "Plus they all looked pretty terrified."

The police were arriving as I grabbed the web bundle that held my clothes from the supply closet. Kitty held me in a very friendly hug and she tried to kiss me as we phased down through the floor, away from the gallery patrons and cops. Kissing through a mask doesn't really work. She realised that pretty quick. She laughed self consciously.

"Hmmm. I'm getting to like travelling with you like this." I hugged her closer and removed my mask, inhaling her hair. "But we need to work on the kissing..."

"Yeah." We kissed properly this time. Much better.

"Mmmm... What took you?" I asked as we finally separated and I realised we'd come into an empty office on the floor below.

"I'm not as quick as you at getting out of my clothes," she said as she picked up her discarded jeans, shoes and top.

"Yeah, I noticed," I responded. "I could help you practice."

"What? Help get me out of my clothes? Settle down Mr Parker," Kitty teased with a slightly nervous giggle. "It's still a little early for that."

I blushed. "That's not what I meant," I said as I tore open my webbing and took out my own clothes and dressed.

"I know. But you're so cute when you're embarrassed." She laughed as she finished dressing. Fortunately we'd both worn their hero outfits beneath our street clothes for this gallery date.

I grinned. "You're much less nervous than on our first date. I... it's good."

"You know I think we complement each other nicely."

"Yes. I think you're cute too," I said.

Kitty rolled her eyes. "Complement not compliment."

"Potato potato," I stated with a grin as I took her hand and we headed to the stairwell.

"Wakey wakey sleepy head. It's late!" Krystal called, snapping me out of my dream. "So what do they do for fun here?"

I winced irritably as the passenger experience faded. Back to my real life. I had a headache and felt off. I stretched taking my first good look at my guest. Red hair. Some freckles. Cute but her eyes were swollen from crying even though she was as trying to put on a brave face now. Huh. She looks kinda like MJ. Coincidence? Not likely. My guess it was someone's clumsy attempt at match making. They really don't get it. MJ is unattainable now. We broke up. Plus I'm not Peter. She likes Pete. Not me. They're not helping me cope. They're rubbing salt in a wound. Hells bells. Now if she looked like Kitty... I grimaced.

Krystal grew uncomfortable and I realised I was staring. "Um. What do I do? I read and exercise," I responded, face colouring as I turned to look at myself in the mirror. My reflection showed a mixture of sadness and melancholy. But also looked a bit... puffy. What the heck? I winced feeling an ache in my joints. And my breasts felt swollen. I frowned. Was I sick? I didn't feel a hundred percent.

"Read and exercise? Well that's boring. You have a television right?" Krystal asked. "I looked but couldn't see one."

"I never asked. I guess I could get one. What do you like to watch?" I asked, worrying a bit. Was I getting sick. I continued my self examination. Was I fatter?

"I like romances and some action flicks. I saw most of the new SpiderMan movie last week. Snuck into the cinema from the fire escape," she said. "It was great until the usher busted me. Hey room service. Can we get a movie player and the new Spider Man film? Oh. And popcorn."

"Oh. I've not caught it. Been... busy," I said. That's the last film I want to watch!

"Let's see if we can watch it. I like Spider-Man. I've been following his career. He hit the scene about the same time I arrived in New York from New Hampshire," Krystal confided.

"You think he's cute?" I asked, strangely intrigued.

Krystal made a noncommittal noise. "He swings around in his undies. Hardly cute. Weird. Definitely weird. I thought he must have a bug face under his mask till I heard him. He sounds like a prepubescent boy so I reckon its to hide achne. But he leaves a lot of condemned buildings in his wake and that's handy when you're looking for a place to live."

"Is that safe? Those buildings are not structurally sound," I said as I climbed out of bed. There was a breakfast tray and I picked it up and took it to the table. Krystal had already eaten. I pushed the food around, my appetite gone. Weird.

"Safe? Compared to sleeping in a building with other homeless people. It's all relative. And there are often things left you can pawn," Krystal said as I tried to eat.

I laughed. "So the homeless appreciate all his destruction? That's funny."

A quarter hour later a blue ray player was pushed under the door along with popcorn and a copy of the requested film. I gave up on breakfast having no appetite and stripped the mattress off the bed and lay it on the floor. We made a comfy place and started the film.

We watched the movie in silence for a while. "Do you think he has those organic web shooters. I heard," Krystal started.

"Shhh. No he doesn't. Oh man. Did they do any research? Do they even understand physics!?" I opined. "That's not possible! It breaks!"

"Calm down. It's just a movie," Krystal said.

"I know but ... what the? They used that footage. I mean really, those cheapskates," I rolled my eyes. "Oh. There's Kong..."

"Can he really sense things?" Krystal wondered.

"Shh. Yes, he has spider sense. But it doesn't work like... oh my god is that defamatory? I think it is. Spider-Man needs to get a lawyer!" I threw popcorn at the screen. "Sam Raimi sucks!" We watched some more in silence. "What? In what universe is Spider Man a Harem anime?"

"What?" Krystal asked.

"He has Black widow and then Captain Marvel after him. Plus his two assistants?!. Is this Days of Our Lives or something? This is just... irresponsible!" I was livid. More of the movie payed out.

"Huh? Do you think he really has a spider cave. I read he did in the enquirer," Krystal pondered.

"Seriously? No." We watched some more in silence. I laughed. "That motorbike that can drive on walls is an unashamed grab for

merchandising," I groaned. "And why so many villains! Why!? You'd think they'd have learned to keep things simple." The movie neared the end. "They think he got his powers from his space spider mother. She ate his father!? That's ridiculous!"

"I don't know it kinda makes sense," Krystal said.

"Shh. You're ruining the movie!" I snapped.

"I'm ruining the movie?!" Krystal asked grabbing the popcorn. She smirked. "I thought you preferred girls but clearly you've got a huge crush on Spider Man!"

"What? No. That's not possible!" I said.

Krystal laughed. "Uh Huh. You think he's cute."

"Ew. No. I'm just a discerning movie fan," I protested as I turned grumpily back to watch the film finale. "I do not have a crush... and... whatever."

As the credits crawled I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. "How much did that movie make again?"

"Over 800 million I think," Krystal said.

"Yeah. I thought so..." I muttered. That's not happening again. I'm going to own my own intellectual property from now on. I vowed to myself.

We watched a few more films then the guards came to escort Krystal from the cell. "Well. It's been fun," Krystal said.

"Yeah," I agreed and smiled tightly. "Thanks Krystal. You're good company. You can crash at my place anytime. Take care out on those streets." I eyed the guards. "You're taking Krystal back to where you picked her up from, with the money you promised her, right?"

"That's the plan," one responded.

"Good. Because Krystal is my friend. I'm going to check up on her later to make certain she is okay," I said evenly, trying to keep the concern from my voice.

"If you remember," the other one smirked.

Krystal looked from the guards to Me, sensing the tension. "I'm fine. Thanks for the place to crash and the films. I'll see you around."

"I hope so. Thanks." I watched silently as they took Krystal away. "And Krystal? It's Jess. I'll be seeing you. That's a promise."

"I'll hold you to it," Krystal called. And then she was gone.

"Disappeared," I muttered, afraid for my first and only friend.

Issue 5: Acceptance

After the guards came and took Krystal away I crawled back to bed and pulled the covers over myself, mainly cause I felt like crap. Physically and mentally. I wanted to hide from this prison and from my thoughts.

The nausea and aching was odd. With my spider powers I'd not really been prone to much illness. In fact I'd felt pretty invincible. I could shrug of injuries that would have killed normal people or taken them months to recover from. But I was not a hundred percent powers wise - in fact I had normal human strength, speed and reflexes. I had spider sense, webbing, wall crawling, endurance and, well, I'd thought resilience. Evidently my resilience was reduced. I felt so... blegh.

I lay there, thoughts churning. Being a prisoner gave me time for introspection. My life as spider-man was pretty full. School, study and homework. Work at the Bugle, working on their web page and taking the odd photo. Chores at home, making web fluid and repairing my suit. Patrolling as Spider-Man. Time with MJ, Kitty or Gwen. Commuting about... But now I just had this cell, the gym and training, my basket weaving sessions and my thoughts. My thoughts. Argh I'd kill for some web swinging action as a diversion.

My mind drifted back to Krystal. She was the only real person in my life that I felt any affinity for. I hardly knew her but I considered her a... friend? The other people in my life were either jailers or... lets face it... in my head. "Oy," I muttered. No. Krystal and I weren't truly friends but I felt like we could be. We were kindred spirits. And I'd liked hanging with her. She was honest, sincere and real.

But Krystal was in this mess partly thanks to me. I suspected these people might have taken someone off the streets regardless - she'd said other street kids disappeared. But they'd chosen her because of me... because she looked like MJ. What they thought was my type, I was sure. I felt responsible. And I was getting angrier at myself and my captors. It was so frustrating.

I thought about Kitty. She was Peter's girlfriend but... to my mind she was also mine. It was kinda deluded but, well delusion is part of human nature. What would she think of me? Some horrible science experiment? Could she ever see me as a real person? As someone she cared for? As someone she loved? I couldn't see that... I really was stalking her. It was really wrong. I had to let Peter have his life and I had to have my own. I started to cry in frustration. But what choice did I have? I couldn't escape. Peter. This prison. My body. My emotions. My thoughts.

Lying there moping in discomfort I didn't realise I had another visitor until he pushed me. "Hey. Bug girl. You okay?" Blain prompted.

"Go away," I grumbled irritably. I didn't need his crap today. I felt all wound up and angry and depressed. And sick.

"That time of month huh?" He said almost cruelly. I huffed

dismissively in response, blinking away tears, then reconsidered, eyes widening at the possibility. That... would explain a lot. "Yeah. It's on your charts. The bioscan doesn't lie. The reason you feel off is because you have PMT. No joke - even if it is pretty funny. I thought they'd fill you in on your cycle. Heh. You can kinda tell by looking at you - your face is all puffy and bloated..." he said. "It sucks to be you right? Who knew invertebrates had periods."

I stared at this cretin with a distinct sense of nausea.

"Right then, put your jewellery on. You need to exercise," Blain said.

"Go away," I reiterated as I realised despondently he was right. I tried not to think about the implications. Girl parts. Girl cycles. I felt even sicker suddenly. Like I might throw up.

"Listen up bug girl. Lying around moping isn't going to help. Come on. You've got physio to go through," He said, prodding me. "Half of the worlds population deals with this. You can too."

"I will web you..." I warned archly. I really wanted to clean his clocks right then but restrained myself.

"And I'll beat your scrawny bug ass. I thought you were a hero..." he mocked.

"I am Spider-Man," I growled, jaw clenching. "But it's the weekend. Me time. I'm going to sleep," I'd earned it. Go to sleep and see what's happening in Pete's life. I was feeling particularly emotional at the moment. I wanted to take my mind off Krystal and what I was going through. I was not going to do what this idiot wanted. Period. Argh!

"Fine. Suit yourself. Doc Phillips said exercise was a good way to relieve the symptoms," Blain said. He turned to go. "You could go on the pill. That might moderate things too. Plus... you know. Stop you getting pregnant," he leered.

Blain made my skin crawl and I again debated webbing him up. I really needed to break something... or I might cry. Maybe exercise would be good. "Wait..." I called. I hated to admit it but he was probably right about the exercise.

Manacled I walked to the gymnasium where I was unchained and did an extended workout. It was not pleasant but I made myself get up a good sweat. I tried wall crawling and found it difficult without my spider strength but pushed myself, managing to get to the ceiling and web swinging about the room. By the end my arms and shoulders ached and I was exhausted. But I felt better. I then did my tai chi forms and practiced what Gong had showed me, trying to focus on the exercises rather than what my body was going through.

Puberty is a pretty confusing time. I'd liked girls up till now and was comfortable with that... but... would I still be? I didn't know. I thought about guys I knew. Flash Thompson. Ew. Wolverine. Again Ew. Johnny Storm. I shrugged. I liked Johnny but... Well, to be honest I didn't know him very well. Was he cute? I really didn't know. Kong. Meh.

I frowned as I continued through my practice trying to see if I had any interest in guys. The best I could do was 'friends'. But girls...? Kitty. I had a crush on her. Same as MJ. But was that from my old body and Pete's new memories or was that me? It felt like me but... maybe it wasn't. Jeez. I keep coming back to this crap. I didn't know myself.

So... moving forwards. It seemed I had functional female reproductive organs now. Hells bells. I had the ability to bare kids... Did I even want kids? I'd never considered it. No, I didn't want kids at the moment. Jeez I was still just a kid. Was that what all this difference in biology between guys and girls was all about? Procreation?

No. That wasn't it. Not entirely. There was the instinct to reproduce I guess. That was imbedded in most people. As a guy I'd been focused on girls because... well... they were girls. And I was a teenage boy. They were fun. Exciting. I liked being in a relationship and sharing my life with someone. And they're girls. There were... perks. My life was complicated and at times just so hard to deal with. A partner made it bearable. That's why I'd gone to MJ and then to Kitty.

Pete had. Whatever.

But I didn't like girls because I wanted kids. They were girls. It was simple. Still there had always been this vague plan in the back of my mind. Some time in the future there was going to be living together with a girl and having a family. Maybe... but the change to my genetics from the spiders bite had thrown a monkey wrench in those gears. It was something I'd been aware of but never properly thought through. Now I did, well it didn't seem so simple.

Would my kids be mutants? Genetic abominations? Villains? Was I sterile? Would Peter or... would I ever have kids? Could either of us risk it? It was more complicated for me because I was not really a girl. Was I?

Putting aside all the weird genetic issues... did I want kids? The idea creeped me out. Girl parts. A human growing inside me. The miracle of birth. A baby... feeding... The implications were coming home now. Being a parent. A mother? I sighed. That was something to worry about later. The responsible thing to do was not to have kids... I shook off those thoughts.

So. Monthly periods... well I just had PMT at the moment. I had more to discover it seemed.

When I returned to my cell and was unshackled I grunted to Blain in recognition that he was right. I did feel better. I considered whether I liked him. Nope. I wasn't getting Stockholm Syndrome. No Beauty and the Beast stuff here thank god. He was human dirt but I... well I needed to at least be semi polite - for now. "I want comfort food..." I declared. "Ice cream and chocolate," Not too polite. He was my nurse. It was his job. Keep the multi- million dollar investment happy.

"Please sir," he prompted.

"Don't push me Blain..." I retorted darkly as I turned my back on him. I wondered how much money they had invested in creating me. Lots no doubt. That sickened me again. "You have to look after me. That's your job. Trust me. I'd prefer to get it myself."

I went and had a hot shower, water almost scalding. That seemed to help. The food was pushed under the door as I returned to the nest I'd made with Krystal. Fresh cookies, chocolate and ice cream along with my usual lunch. I ate but thinking about Krystal and all the other crap in my life stole all the joy from the self indulgence. Then I slept.

"They came and took her away. They're taking kids off the street," I said angrily as I brushed my teeth then spat. Personal grooming was the most irritating chore. Even brushing my teeth reminded me of the change I'd gone through. My teeth were different. I felt like my mouth was exploding with misgrown teeth. But they looked fine. I tried not to think about showering, using the toilet or dressing. It's hard to ignore your body when you're consciously doing it though.

It was Monday morning, two days after Krystal's visit, and I'd got my first period. Pelvic pain and intermittent cramps that extended into my lower back and upper legs. A headache and nausea. Most of my PMT plus... Other stuff. It wasn't enjoyable. Nuff said.

"What are you talking about?" Dr Phillips asked. She took a sip of her coffee and passed me one. The smell of it was pleasant and I noted that the café name was upon the disposable cup. Brewmasters. A chain. Not useful to me.

"What do you know about the people you work for?" I countered as I grudgingly accepted the coffee and then grimaced at my lack of forethought. I'd just brushed my teeth dammit. I took an angry sip. Toothpaste and coffee. Blegh.

"It's government with..." she said. "The FBI."

"Is it?" I pushed, my delicate physical state heightening my irritable mental state. After the second sip the coffee took some of the edge off at least. I'd never bothered much with the stuff before but decided I liked it. Was that something unique to me? I hoped so.

She didn't respond. "So Jess. You had your first period. How-"

"Oh, I still have it," I interrupted. "And boy am I glad to know my medical records aren't read by freaking everyone..." I accused. Actually it seemed only she and Blain knew but that felt like everyone. With my period hyperbole seemed apropos. Blain had provided sanitary pads last night. That imbecilic, misogynistic, red necked mouth breather. I'd had to read over the instructions as he played Enya. Freaking Orinoco Flow. That had been a thing. Still I appreciated them now.

"So how does that make you feel?" she pushed on.

I rolled my eyes. "You want symptoms? I thought you were a doctor and a woman... do you need the talk?"

She sighed patiently. "Jess? How do you feel? Emotionally."

"Oh chipper..." I responded. This was not someone I wanted to confide in. I took another sip, warming on the inside. Not something I wanted to discuss with her in the least. I'd deal with this in my own way.

"In normal circumstances I'd get the pill prescribed to you," she explained. I made a sour face. "But there is no point. Period pain won't be a problem for you. It's a performance inhibiter. Both physical and emotional. Consequently they've scheduled a hysterectomy for you. Periods won't be an issue after that. Or pregnancy," Phillips informed me as though she was talking about going to a dentist.

"You're what?" I asked, horrified. They couldn't. They had no right. My hand shook with rage and I threw my coffee across the room. "What the hell?!" I yelled.

Doc Phillips eyed me with calm disapproval as the coffee ran down the wall and pooled steaming on the floor. She sipped her coffee. "Your body has stopped forming and so it's time. It's scheduled later in the week," She said cordially.

"Do I get a say in this?" I asked darkly, standing, bristling with rage.

"No," she informed me simply. She closed up her notepad and exited the room. I watched her leave. I stood there in shock. That was today's session done. %*#!!!

I threw myself down on my bed unable to understand. To these people I wasn't a person. I was a project. Their property. Something they'd made that needed to be controlled, managed and exploited. I felt something welling up. Rage.

This was insane. I picked up the chair Doc Phillips had been sitting on and threw it at the one way mirror. It bounced off. I did it again and again. The chair broke but the window was impervious. Must be bullet proof or something. Fine. The cameras then. I threw the bits of chair at them. I couldn't break them. They'd thought of this and built the cell to be strong. I webbed the camera lenses but for some reason my webbing didn't stick. "You can all go to hell!!" I raged. I was crying with impotent fury.

They couldn't do this. They were taking my life. My choices. My future. Everything. I climbed the walls and kicked at the camera, tried to break it. Nothing. I dropped to the floor and ran at the window, smashing bodily into it. It hurt. I did it again and again and again. My face and arm were sore but not bruised. Somehow I'd cut my face on something but otherwise my physical resilience kept me from hurting myself. I didn't have the strength to hurt myself it seemed. My face was tear streaked. I pounded on the window. I yelled and raged.

Orinoco flow came on and then they flooded my cell with gas and I was knocked out.

I awoke some time later and lay on the floor despondently for a while, mind churning. It was stupid. I'd concluded that having kids was irresponsible- too much risk. But now that they were taking that choice from me I felt... violated. It wasn't stupids. It was wrong. That was my choice. Not theirs! Then I sighed and stood, still feeling period pain. Still upset.My session with Gong was soon. Can't miss that. I moved on autopilot. I exercised and had a short nap and started to read some books, trying to focus on anything but my fate. All the while I was trying to find a flaw in this prison they had me in. I had powers but lacked the strength to use them. I didn't know why. So I couldn't break out. This was crap.

The rest of the day was a blur of activity. Girl flu wasn't fun and I didn't like it's implications. But their solution was... inhumane. I kept coming back to that. I wasn't some pet to be neutered for their convenience.

And it wasn't just my hysterectomy and Krystal's disappearance. When I went to sleep that night I was a passenger on a date with Kitty Pryde. We were just hanging out, no powers or costumes. Talking and getting to know each other. I think I enjoyed that more than Pete. I certainly appreciated it more. The call from MJ telling me to switch on the news kinda broke the mood. Then she hung up. Ah teen drama. Worrying there might be some disaster that needed my help I turned on the box to discover that Flash Thompson had been kidnaped from school and had escaped. Oh crap.

I wasn't a fan of the guy but he didn't deserve that. The real problem was the news said the abductors were after Spider-Man and they'd grabbed him at my school cause Spider-Man went there... Pete's school. Pete didn't need anyone to scrutinise his school life. Clearly someone knew Pete went to Midtown High, and now thanks to the kidnapping everyone suspected Spider-Man went to school there (ASM 87)

The next day I was getting over my period. It was much less intense thank god. I didn't bother even talking to Dr Phillips. You could cut the tension and the silence was deafening and all that stuff. I hated her. That day I just ate and trained. That evenings sleep I'd updated to discover the media had converged on my school. It was a complete circus! The whole kidnapping thing led to Spider-Man confronting Silver Sable and her team of goons. He was tricked and knocked out. I'd gone to sleep after he was knocked out so I got my update and then our sleep periods coincided- but fortunately there were no dreams. Then came the passenger part. I'd awoke to find myself in power cuffs, a prisoner of a company called Roxxon. By Mr Roxxon... (ASM 88-90).

I was unmasked and asked dumb ass questions. Mr Roxxon, Silver Sable and her goons were busy arguing so I broke my bonds and got out of there. They weren't expecting that. Idiots. My spider sense alerted me to a new danger and I dodged for cover as the penthouse exploded in flames. Amongst the concussive blast, acrid smoke and utter confusion of the blast Roxxon was blown out of the building. Why do I always have to save morons? I went after him, grabbed his falling ass and webbed him in the O of his own Roxxon company sign, high on the side of his own skyscraper to keep out of harms way - and stop him from running away.

And then I was suddenly fighting a creepy bald bird-guy dressed in a green flying outfit. He had a penchant for round and shiny grenades which explained the explosion. The first of many. I webbed a ride on his foot and he flew straight down in an attempt to make me eat the pavement. At the last instant he threw one of his metallic ball grenades and turned upwards, the pack on his back whining at the huge G forces. I shot down past him, my web line snapping in half.

"Nice move!" I cried out, catching the thrown grenade with one web line and twisting to get a line at right angles to a nearby buildings flagpole. I arced and turned my downward momentum horizontal, flying through oncoming traffic, doing a full loop and throwing the grenade up after the vulture guy as I came to rest atop the flag pole.

Coincidentally I'd just saved some guy exiting the Roxxon building. Pete thought nothing of it but... well I did. Cause I recognised the person I had just saved from being blown up. "Thanks bug guy. I owe you, one," The guy said in utter terror and relief. Yep. I knew that voice. I focused on him. Blain. My jailer... holy cow...

"Not a problem dude..." I said and swung back into the fray.

-Dammit! Stay! Follow that guy! Argh!- I railed against Peter's control of his body to no avail.

Whilst Pete was fighting I was considering what had just happened. Blain. I'd saved that misanthropic weasel and he owed me. And what was he doing at Roxxon? How were they tied into all this crap? I'd thought this was a government operation but perhaps it wasn't. Were they a contractor? It started to make sense. Super-humans attacking Roxxon because... what? Were they involved in the creation of super-humans... were corporations battling clandestinely for control of a lucrative niche weapons or biomedical market...? But Mr Roxxon was a brainless chump that seemed oblivious to all this. Had I just stumbled across something useful or was this just a coincidence? So many questions.

My gut told me it wasn't a coincidence. This might even lead to Krystal. Things were starting to look up.

The rest of the night was a fly by the seat of your pants passenger adventure but that didn't really register. I just focused on the things relevant to me. Roxxon Industries. Blain.

It was later in the week after a pointless session with Doctor Phillips when I confronted Blain. We were headed from my room to the gym in the access corridor where he had roughed me up the first time. Where he said they had no audio surveillance.

I purposefully stumbled and fell over, flat on my side, unable to catch myself with my arms manacled behind my back. As Blain helped me up I whispered. "So. You owe me..."

Blain frowned. "I don't know-"

"The other night. The grenade. Bug boy saving your life. You owe me," I said.

"I owe him not you," he growled as he pulled me up.

"You'd be dead without Spider-Man's help. That vulture guy was after Roxxon. You work for Roxxon..." I pushed. He grimaced and pushed me on. I'd struck a nerve. "You admitted it."

"You're just a by product of... just shut up," he growled.

I quieted. I'd planted the seed. Whilst he was arguing he clearly felt in Spider-Man's debt. It was enough. We could have this conversation twice every day from now on. I could tell he was a person that didn't like to be in debt.

I did a training session with Gong and then went through my exercises. Then I reminded Blain again about his debt. He grunted and ignored me. I had time to work on getting him to help me... I hoped.

Back in my cell I was unshackled, showered, changed and started to eat my morning meal. My spider sense was tingling oddly, growing stronger. "Oh crap-" They'd drugged my food. I ran to the bathroom to throw up but passed out on the way there.

I awoke from the anaesthetic on my gurney. I felt dry mouthed and off. There was a twinge of pain at my abdomen. I reached down to find a small scar. I sat there feeling empty. I started to cry. Why? What had I ever done to them? What kind of inhuman monsters did this? I didn't know if I wanted children. In the past I had considered what my genetics might mean for my offspring. Would they be a human, a mutant, a monster? I didn't know. I guess I'd never know now. That had been taken from me. I stared at the camera with cold weary eyes. These monsters would pay.

Over the next week I caught up on Pete's adventure with the X-Men and Deadpool. Nothing useful for me there. Being a celebrity couple with Kitty Pryde in the aftermath was strange.

After that I had one encounter of note when I was a passenger. I was finishing up my patrol of the city, about to call it a night and hop on a truck home when I heard alarms going off at a small convenience store. I swung over to investigate. The place was shut and barred but the alarms were going crazy. I peered through the front window, looking inside. There was some girl wearing a security guard jacket over a hospital gown. Half her head was shaved and she had tubes coming out of her arm. She was eating a packet of crisps and trying to open the cash register.

"Hey. The shop's closed," I called. "This looks like robbery to me."

The girl looked up at me. Scared and disoriented.

-Oh crap! Krystal!-

She seemed really confused. "Spider-Man?" She asked. She flickered and then was standing beside me.

"Oh crap!" I said as I grabbed her.

"Let go!" She yelled and we both flickered. And then I was falling. She was a teleporter?! I let go in surprise and she disappeared. I was falling amongst buildings. I webbed and swung, preventing myself from becoming a squished Spider-Man. I returned to the shop but the girl was gone.

-Oh... Krystal. What have they done to you?- I wondered.

I kept the pressure on Blain. He seemed as taciturn and hostile as ever but I had to try. Gently reminding him that he owed me. That he'd have died if not for me. Bringing up the encounter whenever we were in the corridor alone together. He'd ignore me, push me faster along or just shake his head in frustration. But I could tell the idea was firmly planted.

I had crystal to worry about. And myself. And I found out that there were vampires. Interesting though useless tidbit of information. Weird.

"This cell is my own personal hell. Eat, sleep, crap, shower, train and get head shrunk," I grumbled.

"You make me sound like some kind of savage cannibal," Doc Phillips said. "I'm here to help."

I grinned darkly at my face in the mirror, making certain that my simmering thoughts were not evident, turned, pulled the curtain open and walked back into the view of the omnipresent cameras. "At least I have a curtain for the bathroom."

Doc Phillips sighed, sitting in her seat as I prowled restlessly. "I can't do anything about that Jess. You know what I'm here for."

"It's like I'm trapped in a web. Ironic huh? Sleep and be a passenger in Pete's life, wake unsure who I am, shower with my eyes closed and hating the sensation, eat this bland hospital food, have my basket weaving sessions with you, same old physical work out with Gong where he kicks my butt, practice in the gymnasium, then a tasteless lunch, me time where I practice what I learned with Gong like crazy to avoid thinking, sawdust for dinner and then more practice till I'm exhausted and drop into bed. Rinse. Repeat."

"We talked about this Jess. You need to move on. You can't wallow in what you've lost," she said.

"Are you listening? I'm stuck in limbo. In prison. I can't move on. Because of this. I've been emasculated. Neutered... soon I'll be lobotomised," I grumbled. "I've had one visitor and I don't know if she even made it out of here."

"Krystal. I checked. There are no logs of this girl being here," She said.

"Check with Blain," I suggested.

"I did. Nothing. Are you sure you aren't making her up?" Doc Phillips asked.

"Yes," I snapped.

But it was more the danger to the people in my life. Pete's life. First Gwen was killed and now Flash has been kidnaped. That made me feel pretty guilty. I'd work that out by exercising later. Stupid but it was my life still. I'd pretty much synchronised my sleep patterns to Pete's after school activities and had been rewarded with another date with Kitty. That was great. The rest... not so much.

"I understand. I know you want to get out... it's happening soon," Doc Phillips said.

"Soon?" I felt the desperation of being trapped. Soon is bad. Soon I'll be dead! I need to escape but I can't. I kept pacing. "Right. You know what's funny though? I'm not showing any signs of super strength or speed but my webs and spider sense are working fine, even though my shooting strength is poor. Endurance is at Spider Man level, same as my recuperation from Gong's bouts. He really doesn't hold back. No kid gloves with him," I confided as I grabbed my empty food tray and slid it out under the door. "No doubt Blain spat in my meal again. But at least I get solids... so tell me doc. How are they suppressing my powers."

Doc Phillips frowned. "I'm not sure I know "

"Don't. They're using some kind of power suppressor," I said. I have to start pushing now that my time is almost up. I looked Phillips straight in the eye. "And you know it."

Doc Phillips nodded slowly. "We use it to keep you all under control. All five clones and... it."

"It?" I asked.

Doc Phillips did not answer.

"So it's the food?" I pushed.

"No. There is a machine that generates a field," Doc Phillips said quietly. "But you don't have to worry. You'll be moving on soon. As will I," Doc Phillips said.

My face showed fear. "So. The mind wipe," My voice was dead flat. I knew this day was coming.

"I... I've always been honest with you Jessica," Phillips said. "It's..."

"Distasteful?" I shook her head in disgust. "So what happens when all this insanity unravels? What happens to you?"

"I'm sorry?" Doctor Phillips asked.

"I thought you were insightful. But clearly you haven't thought this through to its logical conclusion. You can't lie down with dogs and not get fleas. You're one of them now. Or you're a liability. Either way this won't end well for you," I said.

"I'm quite invaluable -" she started.

"I know people like this all too well. Hell you've treated them so you know them too. People that run programs like this are dangerous and evil. They're criminals. You know that. Are you one of them?" I asked.

"I am working for the government. The good guys," she stated. "You are too."

I rolled my eyes. "You need a psychologist more than I do..."

"You have to trust-"

"What did you do to Krystal?" I interrupted. "She escaped. Spider-Man saw her. She had powers..."

"I have no idea-" she said.

"I thought not. Whatever this program is it's also kidnaping homeless kids. Innocent kids. My guess they're using them as guinea pigs to experiment on," I said. "I have no proof but my instincts are good."

"I'm sure you're wrong. They don't do those sorts of things," Dr Phillips said.

"You're sure? Hopefully when they reprogram me into their mindless killing spider they won't assign me to clean up the loose ends of this program. If so, sorry in advance for what I'll do to you. But you know, you can't make an omelette with breaking a few eggs and all that crap. Better you than me, right? Can you afford for me to be wrong?"

There was a tense moment where the we looked at each other.. "Good luck Jessica. And Goodbye."

Issue 6: Escape

I was in what Blain mockingly called my 'jewellery', manacled, headed to the gym and mulling over my pending identity death. Soon I would be just Jessica Drew, FBI agent and mindless slave to a corrupt government agency. I'd be dead and no one that mattered to me would ever know I ever existed. Yeah. It was a bleak prospect. I pulled weakly against my bonds then turned about and looked accusingly at Blain. We were in the unmonitored corridor. Fluorescent lighting made it feel artificial and lifeless. "I know you heard Doc Phillips Blain. You're always there watching on the other side of the glass. You heard they're going to kill me tonight. You have to help me. You owe me," I pressed.

I desperately wanted Blain to help me. I was also going plead with Gong this session. Our last session.

Blain shook his head and pressed me forwards. "He saved me. You're not him. Your just a broken copy that they're going to fix," he said coldly.

"You know that's a lie. I'm him. If I live I'll do more good, save more lives than these self serving hypocrites ever could. You can't save lives by murdering people. And that's what they're going to do to me. And if you're part of it that makes you a murderer. All the people I don't save... they're on your head too. You kill me and you kill them. You didn't deserve to be saved... and I did anyways. Cause. I'm the same. I'm him... I'm a hero," I said fiercely.

"No. You're an experiment. A project. A thing," he said but I sensed a hint of hesitation.

I strove to bite back my anger. I needed his help. "The suppressor... disable it... I can-"

"Shut up freak," he pushed me into the gym. I saw Gong and a man I didn't recognise. Blain undid my cuffs. I had a bad feeling about this. I'd wanted to be alone with Gong - this interloper complicated things.

The new man came forward. He was tall, blonde and fit. He wore a black suit and tie. His glasses were severe whilst his features could be described as handsome there was a smug superiority about him that set me immediately on edge. He was repellent. "Hello Jessica. I'm Henry Gyrich, FBI Section Chief of the OTD," he reached out to shake my hand.

I stared at his hand as though it were unclean. No. I wasn't shaking this man's hand. This was the guy in charge. The msn that had ordered my mind wipe and probably signed off the authorisation that made me female and gave me a hysterectomy. I was sorely tempted to punch his lights but. Gong tensed, ready to intercede, sensing my anger. No. I didn't need to be back under lock and key. Not now with my end so close. I needed to escape. It went against everything in me but I didn't attack the pompous ass. "Impressive TLA," I said, unimpressed. Actually my voice dripped raw loathing.

Gyrich smirked. "Sarcasm. The lowest form of humour... it stands for Operational Technology Division. Gong tells me you show promise. I value Gong's opinion," he said.

"The FBI huh? Isn't it the FBI's mandate to detect and prosecute crimes against the United States..." I asked.

"And that is what you shall help us do," he said. "SHEILD has something of a monopoly on super powers. It makes it difficult to achieve our mandate when crimes are committed by super powered beings and we have no ability to respond..." he says.

"Your logic is flawed... you're committing crimes against the United States. Killing one of its citizens-"

"Oh please. We grew you in a Petri dish. You're hardly a citizen. You're not even human. We did a comparative DNA test. The difference in your genetics to a normal human is on a par with other primates... our lawyers have vetted this and we're on safe legal ground. There are emergency powers under--"

"And moral ground?" I growled.

"Don't interrupt Jess. We're not killing you... just conditioning you. A bit like one would train a pet," he stated with a sense of authority.

"A. Pet," I repeated. Screw this ass hat. Clock cleaning time... I punched the egotistical putz's face with everything I had. Gong moved though and I felt my spider sense tingle as he caught my punch cold. I mean all my momentum just stopped. That just wasn't normal. "What the?"

I looked at Gong. He shook his head no then punched me in the solar plexus. I tried to dodge but even with my spider sense I just wasn't in the right position to move enough and my speed just wasn't up to it now. I grunted as I flew backwards. That punch had more force than it should. Like twice as much as it should. Maybe more. It had thrown me. The blow also knocked the wind out of me. I gasped and felt a clammy sweat beading as the nerves around my solar plexus reeled. For a normal person the fight would have been over. But one of my still active powers was my resilience. I feigned that I was out of it for a moment, playing possum. It hurt but didn't incapacitate me.

I was fairly certain that Gong has just used some kind of power. I'd seen hints of it before. That had felt like he'd absorbed then redirected the energy of my punch back at me - in addition to his own punch... with interest. Some kind of kinetic energy storing and release power? Right then. Don't hit Gong.

Gong approached and he looked calmly down at me. He'd been holding back. So had I. "Jess, don't let your emotions-" I webbed his eyes and his feet. No punches there. Gong let out a strangled cry as he fell. I launched myself at Gyrich. The punch I delivered to his stomach was oh so satisfying. I really should have dismantled the guy. He'd neutered me. Was going to kill me. But I wasn't that type of person. Gyrich was.

Gong lay on the ground, hitting himself. Hard. Well it looked hard but there was no real noise of impact. "What are you...?" Then I realised. Gong was storing up kinetic energy. He punched the ground to right himself and then he star jumped, pulling his feet apart and free of the floor. My webbing tore to shreds. He gripped the webbing. "Gong - don't. It's like super glue. I wouldn't..." he pulled, using his kinetic strength. As I'd expected he removed a great deal of skin. His face began to bleed profusely and he screamed in pain. Evidently he wasn't impervious. God how much skin had he just pulled off? That was going to scar. Badly.

And then Gong was running at me. I backflipped away, deftly dodging back, not wanting to hit him as he launched a flurry of super fast attacks. I might not have super strength or agility but thanks to past experiences I was no slouch and I'd been training hard over the past weeks. Gong snarled as he lurched past me, his attack going wide.

My spider sense went off as Gyrich drew his gun and aimed it unsteadily at me. "Gong, stand down. Jessica, stop. I don't want to kill you but we can always grow more of you."

I held up my hands in surrender. I wasn't fast enough to dodge bullets. Gong stalked up and punched me again in the stomach, hard. I grunted as my knees buckled. "Ow..." I complained.

"And you wonder why you need to be mind wiped," Gyrich observed. "Nurse Blain. Manacle phase five's and escort her back to her cell. Then come back here and tend to Gong's injuries," I looked at Gong. That was going to scar his face I was sure. He knew it too. There was anger, hurt and hatred in his eyes. I'd just created an enemy. Great. And I'd wanted to ask Gong for help.

On the way back to my cell I looked at Blain. "So. Will you help me?" Blain ignored my question. "Or are you just like them?" I asked. There was no answer.

***

Someone slipped a white and dark red garment under the door. I stared at it with dread. "Please put on the costume Jessica," a voice instructed over the intercom speaker.

I numbly took the outfit and held it up. A one piece suit with a spider motif made for a female figure. I took it glumly and moved to my private bathroom corner, drawing the curtain and stripping. I stared apprehensively at my body. Despite this female form being forced upon me I didn't want to lose it... and I wasn't really going to lose it. I was going to lose my awareness of my body being wrong. Soon someone else, a blank slate, maybe even a real girl, would be looking out through my eyes at my body. I felt almost as sorry for that person as I did for me.

How much of me would remain? I just couldn't deal with this. I looked up at the clock. It was late at night. The end of my last day. I feared I was out of time. They were going to kill me. Take away my memories. Erase me. The bastards. I slipped the costume on. Till now I'd favoured shirts and baggy clothing. My girlish figure was fully on display in this costume. I swallowed and stepped out, clearly ill at ease. I stood awkwardly. I didn't like my femininity being so blatantly on display.

"Bravo! Bravo Jessica." The normally opaque wall was now clear. I stared out at Ben Reilly - Renfield - and friends. I looked out at my audience.

"Don't call me that. Stop calling me that," I said. I'm not her. I'm Peter. Don't kill me. Please don't kill me.

"I'm sorry... I really am. I mean no disrespect. That's what today is all about anyhow. You're going to become Jessica Drew today. I told you we had a psych team that will help you with that. Painless. Quick. Meet the person that is going to help you with all of that. Cassandra Webb," I stared at the wizened old lady in the wheel chair. This was her. My murderer. Funny. I'd expected someone more imposing. Black hood. Axe. You know. An executioner.

"I know this has been difficult. It'll all be over in a minute," Ben said. It was infuriating. He didn't have the slightest bit of understanding. How would he feel if I murdered him? How would any of them feel? Not happy I bet. These people had purposefully been absent during my last month of rehabilitation and brain shrinking. They'd wanted to keen distant from me because they knew they were murdering me. From a distance I could be objectified. They could convince themselves I was a science project and not a crime against humanity.

I just couldn't understand. "Why did you people do this to me?" They were all guilty in my mind. All criminals. But they were educated - scientists, professionals. I looked for Gong, Doctor Phillips, Blain or Gyrich. They weren't there. They could have at least come to say goodbye.

Then I felt a strange sensation. Like my ears were popping. Akin to a weight coming off my shoulders. As though the air pressure had dropped or gravity had been reduced. Like somehow I had been freed. Strength coursed through my body. I felt light. Powerful. Super. I grinned. I had my powers back somehow. The suppressor?

"Jessica, you know that we-" An earth shattering explosion rocked the installation and people went flying. There was a monstrous inhuman roar and some horrific tendrilous red form tore through the gathered crowd. I caught glimpses of it roiling, twisting form. It oozed menace. Malicious, raw, violence. The sound of its sharp blade like tendrils whipping through the air was disconcerting and the wet thwacking sound of it tearing through the gathered people was stomach turning. This was a nightmare vision made real.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" a hysterical voice yelled. Everyone sensed that something terrible was happening.

"It's loose. The Stacy experiment is loose," another frantic voice yelled. There was another bestial roar and a lacerated body flew across the room to hit the other side of my window making me flinch. The body fell but bits of blood and gore remained to dribble down the glass.

"Everybody down!" a guard yelled as he opened fire indiscriminately with an automatic pistol, trying to shoot the nightmare thing but hitting bystanders. Wet snapping sounds and anguished cries of pain, strangled sobs of horror and furious bellowing roars filled the room beyond the glass. Ben Reilly went down atop Cassandra Webb. The red thing looked at me.

It? The Stacy experiment? I stared in shocked horror as the symbiote roared its mad rage then its tendrilous muscled form bunched foully and it leaped up at the ceiling, smashing out.

Whimpers and cries and groans filled the room beyond as I stared in disbelief. Then the door to my cell opened. Was I free?! I stepped out. Hardly believing I'd had a reprieve from my death sentence. And the other clones stepped out cautiously as well. Oh. My. God. That's them. I gaped.

A horribly scarred version of Peter, the left half of his face a lump of raw misshapen flesh. He was dressed in a soiled and tattered Spider Man outfit, sans mask. "Whoah!" There was an unhinged naivety to him. I thought of him as half face. Poor guy.

There was also six armed, bristle faced, razor toothed, black eyed spider boy, gaping at me and the others. He wore a black outfit. "Okay. This is weird," he observed, familiar joking voice twisted by fangs. Six arms. Maybe being a girl wasn't so bad.

"We should get out of here. We should go find MJ," Half face suggested. He seemed to be only half there. Like a lost and broken child. Oh man. Poor thing. I thought.

A middle aged man in a suit looked on with mature concern. "No. There's been an accident. Everyone just go back in your rooms and wait for the power " he looked like an old, male me. Damn.

This is no accident. Someone turned of the power. Turned off the suppressor. Dr Phillips? Blain? I didn't know. But there was also the symbionts. They'd called it the Stacy Experiment? It killed Gwen so... was that why they'd called it Stacy?

"But MJ needs our help," Half face Peter said simply.

Yeah, he's not all there. And the one with the green body armour and scorpion tail hadn't even spoken. He'd just stared in confused fear. He looked like he was bugging out. I started to worry. These clones were probably all failures in some way or another. Heck I was a failure. Pete didn't need any of us in his life. "No. We leave Peter and all of them alone."

"What is this? What have you done to me??" the Scorpion cried, clearly on the verge of hysteria.

This was going south quickly. "Everyone just calm," I urged, trying to bring some order to this little dissociative identity disorder.

"Just stay here," the old clone said, trying to be the voice of mature authority.

I rolled my eyes as predictably the three other clones reacted.

"Yeah, uh no," Six arm responded sarcastically as he turned to leave.

"I'm not going to let this happen!" Yelled the Scorpion frantically as he ran and then launched up in a powerful leap, his exoskeleton suit extending upwards to fully encase his face.

"We have to save her!" Half face Pete declared single-mindedly, an unhinged edge to his voice as he fled.

I stared at the old clone. Idiot. Getting these clones to work together was like herding cats. Clearly none of us had a future here and we all knew it but him. The old guy looked imploringly at me. He wants me to stay and not unleash our insanity on the world. I understood his sentiment. But this was my one chance. If I stayed I was as good as dead. They'd turn me into their mindless agent. Wordlessly I turned, pulled up my mask and leaped up to follow my brethren. My vision swam as some kind of advanced goggle technology in my mask turned on. Night vision. Handy.

With the masks back on something clicked inside. I wasn't Peter Parker or Jessica Drew. I was a hero. That same undertone of mischief and humour came back to me. "Big time hero coming through," I announced ironically to the world. I was back.

I alighted atop the rooftop in a crouch and watched the three clones swing or leap nimbly away in divergent directions. I alertly searched about and figured out where I was - by the wharves in one of the cities newly reclaimed tech precincts. God after a month of being a prisoner I wanted to just swing out and do some good. Nope. Power and responsibility not just kicking ass and taking names.

I felt a moment of indecision. Should I chase after one of the clones? Half face and the Scorpion seemed the most dangerous. But... there was also the Stacy Experiment. I was pretty sure that thing, or something like it, had killed Gwen. It might turn up again at my home and kill Aunt May or MJ. Er Pete's home. It wasn't my home anymore. Whatever. It didn't matter. I had to hunt it.

It was headed south last time I saw it... I aimed my fingers and let loose with my webs. That still felt so weird. With my unhindered strength my web line shot considerably further than my mechanical shooters could manage. Not worth giving up my gonads for, but I appreciated the power up all the same. My aim was off. I shot again. Ah. I get it. I leaped and shot, pulled hard on the elastic web, legs kicking, my slim body arcing nimbly between hemming buildings. The movements were familiar but ... not.

The webbing had different elasticity than I was used too. Improved elasticity. I considered Hookes law momentarily... damn I'd need to redo my sums. I considered deformation and fracture... yeah I really needed a lab to do some testing.

I was lighter of muscle and my distribution of mass was way different now. Wider hips. Chest different. Hmm. Yep. My girlish curves changed up the physics of things noticeably. I'd have to take care at first, particularly given the extreme G forces I experienced when I swung. For a number of really salient reasons I'd need to maintain a girlish figure if I wanted to keep web swinging anything like I used too. Hookes law would apply to me chest... damn you physics.

The web swinging wasn't as fluid as it had once felt. Guess I had to relearn the ropes. Webs. Whatever. I reached the top of my arc, hung suspended high in the air for a moment as I arched my back into a graceful dive. I missed this. The pure freedom was exhilarating. Weightless and unfettered I floated, old skills coming back to me, adjusting instinctively for my new form.

From my vantage point I scanned. My goggles included the infrared spectrum and they intuitively filtered out the warmth of a red tendril hanging from a distant roof cornice. I swung to it and inspected the remnant.. The thing was decaying rapidly.

Wait... my fluid came from me... was it warm? Yeah. It was body temperature and showed up on my goggles. I'd not noticed it was warm before. That was... kinda gross for some reason. I kept following the symbiote. I wondered briefly if it could negate my spider sense. Was I hunting it or was it hunting me?

Suddenly without warning there was a red blur and solid mass flew at me. The thing hit me solidly, driving the air from my lungs. The symbiote wrapped barbed tendrils about me as I struggled. My web line snapped and it drove us down through a skylight way below, heavy lead glass and rotted timbers shattering under our combined weight. I webbed and twisted, my grip on my web jerking me free of the thing. I swung swiftly through the dust and cobwebs of the saw tooth trusses, struggling to catch my breath.

"Peter!!!" The thing called and shot barbed tendrils which I narrowly evaded by ducking, flipping and rolling, using my wall crawling and gymnastic skills to weave through the roofs trusses and structural timbers. I snagged at a timber beam to change trajectory, spider sense tingling as the old dry rotted wood splintered and crumbled. A shooting barb encircled my wrist and pulled me back, almost yanking my arm from its socket. It's vile maw yawned reminding me of a huge nightmarish anglerfish.

"No!" I cried as the thing pulled me in, its malleable jawed mouth engulfing me. Blackness. Pain. Burning. My blood felt like it was boiling. This thing was trying to consume me. "No!" I cried in horrified denial and rallied with all my strength. My face broke free and I gasped for air. It felt like acid. Not just my skin but deep within me! It was killing me. I fought vainly but it engulfed me in its consuming darkness again. Warm pulsing liquid flesh bulged and squirmed about me. It was disgustingly intimate. "Give it back! It's mine!" It gurgled.

Horror threatened to unman me. What? Wait. It called me Peter? I reached up to my mask and tore its pulsing flesh away. "Gwen. Stop. You're killing me. Please. Gwen. It's Pete."

The pulsing nightmarish blob shuddered and flowed with uncertainty. "Pete?" The words came from more than one mouth. "I'm scared. They had me in some kind of hospital. I'm confused." The thing flowed off me in a surge of vile protoplasm and took on a vaguely humanoid form. I lay there shuddering. Wet from some warm liquid. Feeling weak and utterly exhausted. "You're a girl," it said as its talons caressed my face with something like maternal care. Its face looked like a parody of Gwen's, a red and black liquid replica framed by wickedly sharp barbs that moved and twisted obscenely. Its black liquid eyes regarded me. "You're not Pete... you ... felt ... like Pete. But you aren't." I realised its sinuous curves were oddly feminine. The thing seemed confused and sad as it turned and, bunching its protoplasmic mass, launched fluidly away.

I lay there panting in pain, my whole body burning. "Gwen? Oh god what have they done to us?" I sobbed in shock and exhaustion. It had been Gwen. Almost. But not quite. It was an abomination and we had shared an unnatural kinship. Had shared. Just then it had taken something from me... taken something of itself back. We... we were separated now. There was suddenly a hollow emptiness in me that felt like it might never be filled again. Had my link to Pete been enabled through that thing? Was it severed?

I lay in the darkness, still aching like I had acid in my blood but the pain gradually receding. Resilient. That was me. I stood unsteadily, body trembling. The symbiote was long gone, along with any of its tendrils. They'd all decayed to dust. No tracking it now. The other three clones could be anywhere.

Had it been the symbiote that linked me to Peter. Had that link been broken? I felt like it had. I just knew it. I was now a separate being. I had my powers and my freedom. I could go to Pete's home and guard it... but no doubt they'd expect me or one of the others to do that. Damn Gyrich and his schemes. Not home. Not yet.

But... I could sneak back to the prison... they wouldn't suspect that. I could get information... they might have the suppressor running but I'd be careful. I figured I wasn't done with Gyrich, the FBI, Gong, Phillips, Blain and Roxxon. They weren't going to let me just walk away. And I had to find out what happened to Krystal.

My mind made up I returned to lurked in the shadows atop the warehouse building directly across the street from my former prison, watching them clean up. There were some injured people being seen too by a doctor and quite a lot of movement from men in suits. FBI agents I intuited. They were loading gear and boxes in black vans. No doubt this facility would soon be a distant memory. Security looked fairly lax though, thanks to the urgency of the operation. Clearly they wanted to cover this up immediately. Time to investigate.

I silently swung down to get a better look, wall crawling along the dark façade over the heads of a few guards then dropping noiselessly to a crouch in the loading dock. There was a stack of storage boxes ready to be loaded in a nearby van and I looked them over, one catching my eye. Hmm. One had the same code as my wrist tag. Mine. I took it and on an impulse the box with the number preceding it.

"Hey you. Clone 5. Jessica! Stop," a man yelled. "Security! Get Gyrich!"

"Sorry. Gotta go!" I said, taking note of the vans number plate and then hefting my loot. I swung away. There were suddenly alarms and the distant report of gunfire followed by bullets flying about me. Well I guess they don't want me alive. What else is new?

Several blocks away I paused atop a deserted roof top and by the glow of a dim security light looked through my box. Ten spider woman uniforms, a portable USB drive and some kind of equipment. Well that's handy. Hmmm. There were four neat envelopes... interesting.

The other box contained a suit of green armour. I held it up. It was heavy and had some power functions. It might fit me. It didn't have a tail... maybe it was a prototype for the green armoured clone? Green? I made a sour face. Below I noted more envelopes, some files, some equipment and a USB.

Packing away the armor I opened the first envelope from my box. A passport. I flipped through it. Julia Carpenter was the name listed. There was also a drivers licence, a printout with a social security number, a birth certificate, a gold MasterCard, and an FBI  
identification. "Holy..." I muttered. The date of birth nearly matched mine but the year of birth placed me older. Eighteen years old? Not fifteen or a month? Interesting. Youngest FBI agent ever... but the FBI badge had no date of birth. I wrapped the ID up again.

The next was Martha Franklin, also eighteen years old. I flipped through the same identification papers including MasterCard and frowned when I came to a private investigators licence instead of an FBI badge. Mattie Franklin, Alias Investigations, with an address on Ninth Avenue? I couldn't imagine being a gumshoe convincingly. Even eighteen is a stretch. I shook my head. Not for a while. I put it away I wondered how extensive the identity is. Was there really a Hells Kitchen office? I shrugged. It gave me options.

There was Jessica Drew, age fifteen. Photoshopped family pictures of mum, dad, brother, family dog, friends and everything. That is disturbing. Rent a family? How...? Must have used pictures of me as I grew. Then I found her... my school transcript. Holy crap! All the classes I'd intended on taking completed with a 4.33 GPA? God. I felt like a dirty cheater just looking at this. A fake. I started to cry and went to screw it up but stopped myself. I resolved to finish my classes and get these grades somehow... then it would be real and I could use it.

Finally there was Charlotte Witter, fifteen year old homeless girl with a juvenile a rap sheet. No credit cards, drivers licence. Just a birth certificate and some school transcripts. Interesting. I'm a bad girl. I chuckled. Resisting arrest. Assault. Vandalism. Disorderly conduct. New York City Central Park Curfew Violations. Hang on. This is... God I've pretty much done all of this stuff. Hah. Someone has a sense of humour. I laughed, a sound edged with unease not humour.

Four fake identities. Interesting. Useful too if they were as complete as the FBI could make them... Except the FBI knew all of them. Damn. Still, in the eyes of the law I existed. I felt a strange surge of relief. I could be a problem girl, a PI,FBI agent or just plain old Jessica Drew. I had options. Unless the FBI cancelled the ID's. But then I might not use them. No. They'd keep them alive and track them. I felt certain.

So. Where to go? I'd need money, regular street clothes... my stomach rumbled... Some food.. I should tell Pete but this will drive him nuts. It's driving me nuts. God I've been so preoccupied with my mind wipe I never planned for this. A life as a girl. Holy crap. The rest of my life as a girl. The enormity of that prospect was mind blowing.

Can't worry about that. Got the rest of my life to do that. No. There is a symbiote loose along with three clones with varying degrees of sanity. Plus I'm an escaped government experiment. How embarrassing for them. Not for me though. Wearing skin tight spandex that makes me feel nearly naked in public with a clearly female body. Yep. Not embarrassing for me. Focus.

But where to go? I don't want to see him. See me. But his home would probably be where the clones and the symbiote would end up going. I was tired, hungry and needed a place to store this stuff. I flicked through my identification till I found the MasterCards. On the back of each was a printout with a PIN and bank details. How long till they cancel these? Probably never. Again they will likely use them to track me. Right... cash withdrawal. I swung to a nearby ATM and put the card in the machine. No money in the account. Of course. None in any of them.

Parker luck again. But I was a Drew right!? I needed to stash all this stuff. There was a place that I'd seen one time. A rooftop lean too, a tiny disused storage shed on a run down apartment building near the Queensboro Bridge. I swung too it with my boxes and looked about. The roof was deserted and judging by the rubbish and neglect had been for a while. I opened the door and pigeons flew out with a clattering of wings. The place was filthy with bird poo, feathers, dust, cobwebs and rat poo. Under a tarp within the tiny shed I found an old rusted but servicable bike, tools, some camping gear in a moth eaten hiking back pack, including a smelly old sleeping bag, portable stove and quarter full mini gas bottle, some dehydrated food, army style canteen cup and cutlery and other junk. I stashed my boxes in the shed at the back under a tarp. Rummaging through things further I unearthed a chain and padlock which I used to lock up the shed. I hid the key to the shed under an empty pot. Then I secured the door up to the rooftop from the building below by snapping off the door handle and wedging a small crowbar into the door jam. This was a good Spidey hidey hole for gear but not a good place to sleep. Too cramped and drafty. Pigeon crap everywhere. Nope...

The warehouse. The place where MJ and I met. It was big. I could hide and sleep there. God I was tired. Making all this webbing drained me. I needed food. I grabbed the hiking pack and made my way to the warehouse. Once there I filled my canteen with water from a tap in a nearby courtyard then made up my stolen chow in an inaccessible roof loft space. It was dusty and cold but I didn't care. The food was way past its best before date and not a patch on my prison food but I didn't care. It tasted of freedom. I ate in the dark using my mask goggles to see by. Physically and emotionally I was exhausted. Hardly thinking I crawled into my stinky sleeping bag and went to sleep.

***

"MJ?" A voice called. It sounded odd but familiar. Like hearing your voice on a home video. I shook of my sleep. Sleep. Without dreams of Pete. I had been right. The Symbiote had severed our link. And I'd slept all day. I felt refreshed. Hang on who was calling for MJ? Oh god. That was...

"MJ?" Peter Parker called again. He was clearly very worried. That was me. Him. The real Spider-Man. He was looking for MJ. Why did that suddenly worry me? I pulled on my mask and silently dropped down to the floor from my sleeping loft. Damn. Why had I come here. Stupid! Then I saw him. It was just like watching a home video. If your home movies were horror movies.

"Sorry, tiger..." I said. God this was weird. I stared at myself. Total out of body experience... why did I say that though? That was completely MJ. "Well, this is this is awkward," I stared at me. Pete stared back at me. Weird. So weird.

"Who are you?" he growled aggressively.

Oh my god. He was so angry. Like villains I fought. Seeing the red. I was that guy?! My jaw dropped as I saw a new side of myself. "Um..." I switched gears. "Who do I look like?" How was I going to break this too him? I'd not thought this through

His face showed fear and suspicion. On some level he knew what I was. But he was denying it. Denial. The first stage... then came anger... yeah I knew this guy. "I don't care. Where is MJ?" he continued intimidatingly.

"Mary Jane Watson. I'm not her, if that's what you think. That would be so creepy as opposed to this thing here which isn't creepy at all," I observed uncomfortably. There was this huge elephant in the room.

"Where is she?!!!" He was getting angrier. Yelling. Lost in the red mist of anger...

"I wouldn't know! I don't get to be part of that," I resented him for the life I could not have, that he didn't seem to appreciate or deserve. I was angry at myself for coming here. But, most of all I was scared for MJ... I felt powerless. I didn't want those I loved hurt even though I'd decided to not be part of their lives.

"I want to know what is going on here!! What is going on here??!! Give me MJ! I mean it!! There is nothing I won't do to protect her," he was shouting angrily at me. Accusing me!

He was an utter ass. "Yeah? Great job so far," I snarked. Again not the best thing to say but this meeting of selves was getting schizophrenic.

"Hrra!"He launched at me, going for my throat, snarling like a villain. "Where is she?!!!!" He grabbed at me.

I leapfrogged him and pushed him back behind me. "Hey!" I cried.

Pete smashed into the wall behind me with a crash of wood and junk. He clumsily fell atop an old car tyre. "Where is she?!" He turned and threw the rubber wheel at me.

"You don't get to touch me!" I snapped as I jumped the missile and it wreaked devastation behind me. He was out of control but I wasn't getting any calmer. "Okay?? You understand me?" I angrily punched Pete, surprised by my own vehemence. I was Me. Not him. He didn't own me. Didn't get to enter my personal space. Attack me. This wasn't my fault. I had his back and he was attacking me!

"Wereargh!?" He cried in surprise. I wasn't pulling my punches. He could take it. I needed to knock some sense into this idiot. "Just stop it!" I grabbed him and threw him across the room. God he was stupid. I was such an ass! This was escalating much too fast. "Hey!! I'm not going to fight you. It's not happening," I growled. I felt like I was fighting with myself. Funny that. Not.

"Where is she?!" He was all anger and frustration and fear. He wasn't thinking. Just reacting. Grabbing a a metal; pipe as a weapon. I didn't need my spider sense to tell me what he was going to do.

"You're completely off your game anyhow," I observed. He was as. He must have run across another clone... he was looking for MJ. Oh crap. What had the others clones done?

"How would I know where Mary-Jane is? Seriously, come on, man. You'd think you would just deal with the implication of what is going on right in front of-come on!!"I dodged the metal pipe thrown at me. That could have killed me! "Fine!" I webbed his face up. That's the best way to deal with idiots blinded by rage.

"Agh!" He cried as he lurched back into a support and the roof tumbled down atop him, burying him under a ton of bricks, timber and other junk. Dust bloomed from the wreckage: A single limp hand poked up through the bricks, steel and broken timbers.

"Oh my god..." I swore as I realised I might have killed him. I rushed forward and checked his pulse. "Whew. Okay. You're okay... He scared me. I shouldn't have come here," I turned and spoke to his buried firm. "This was my fault. I just had to see this for real. I'll get them back for you, Peter. I'll do it for all of us. We didn't deserve this," And I swung off. That could have gone better. I was glad I hadn't killed him... but... where was MJ?

Where should I go too? Things seemed to be falling apart... maybe the clones would go to places they knew. Home. School. Here... what other safe places were there. The Bugle? No. The house. I should stake out the house. But first I needed to see who else was staking it out.

Issue 7: Confrontation

Swinging through the old neighbourhood of Forest Hills, the familiar streets and houses of Queens looked normal. Beguilingly so. I felt a strange pang of loss and had to blink away a sudden moistness in my eyes. I knew this wasn’t normal now. This friendly neighbourhood would never be normal for me again. Not anymore. Spider-woman was an interloper here. I… had no home. Heh. No family. No friends. No old haunts. No school – damn. I was done with Mid Town High now as well. Abruptly my connection to my neighbourhood was severed in my mind. In my heart. But the memories evoked by the place and the emotions I felt at the realisation of complete loss threatened to overwhelm me in that moment.

“Damn you, you greedy, amoral, power hungry …” somewhere nearby were more interlopers, a clandestine FBI task force waiting to ambush me - and the other clones. I laughed ruefully as I focused my thoughts on them. In a weird way they were almost protecting Aunt May and other people important to me…yeah right. Protecting them from a threat they’d created. I didn’t think for a moment that protecting people was their real intent. The reality was the FBI were using my loved ones as bait, and because of them – and the real Peter - I couldn’t go to my former home to stand guard. It was frustrating for all kinds of reasons. 

Most of all because this wasn’t my home anymore. Damn it. Got to keep my head in the game.

I knew they’d been keeping tabs on Pete’s activities whilst I was a prisoner and I figured they must have a surveillance team in a nearby house… that team would be hard spot unless you knew to look for it. Which I did. The stakeout team’s base couldn’t be too close - half a klick seemed just right otherwise it might be spotted by Pete or the neighbours. But they would need their special team ready to move… so vans? Those ubiquitous dark government vans? I hoped they stuck to the cliché. 

I started to do a circular search a good half a klick from the my old house, looking for government vans. It didn’t take too long before I spotted two midnight hued vans with dark tinted windows. The house they were parked at looked picture perfect with a large, well maintained treed yard. Nice and secluded. Nondescript. Except for the satellite dish situated on the back roof. Bingo.

Pete wouldn’t normally come this way and if he did it was pretty likely he wouldn’t notice the dish out the back. It wasn’t that out of place. Lots of people had dishes. They didn’t have motion sensors or security cameras - that would stand out too much. Right then, this should be easy... I checked out the place carefully moving from tree to rooftop with fluid stealthy grace. The long hair was a bit annoying, covering my face every now and then. And my small chest - I tried to ignore what that was doing, focusing instead on the task at hand. But I was getting angry. This body wasn’t me. These guys were using Aunt May as bait. They represented everything loathsome and evil in the world. What they’d done to create me and the other clones… and what they were willing to do to cover it up... Don’t get mad Spidey. Expose them. Get justice. Focus.

Two floors. Seperate garage. As I reconnoitred the house from a safe distance another van returned. I watched intently from the concealing shadows of tree foliage as Gong exited and walked into the house, two other agents in his wake. I launched myself high and swung to the vans, landing and silently hugging the far side of one in quick silent movements. I was lighter. Leaner. And my new suit was better. Some expensive materials made my footfalls more cushioned on the gravel drive. The dark scarlet of my new suit blended perfectly with the shadows, the white spider that banded about my chest and ribs was a minor bright spot but overall it was better for this ninja stuff. The vans were empty and I was sorely tempted to rip the wheels off them - but that would be too noisy. Instead I leaped over them with the poise of a ballerina and wall crawled up to the first floor where I opened a window and climbed in. “Poise of a ballerina?” I muttered to myself. “Gotta keep my metaphors more masculine” I chided myself quietly. Poise of a quarterback. Nah. My night goggles and spider sense made it easy as I stealthily moved about upstairs, avoiding creaking floor boards.

“You’re sure about this?” Gong’s voice asked from downstairs. There was a pause. “Yeah, I get it. But… well the Stacy Experiment is incoming. Phase three has no powers and Madame Webb’s mental whammy on him won’t pass much scrutiny.” I didn’t fancy what I was hearing here. 

I headed downstairs and heard the sound of a football game. My suddenly spider sense tingled and I reflexively leapt up onto the ceiling as a guy in tactical body armor walked out a door and down the corridor to the john focused on his phone and oblivious to the spider lurking on the ceiling. Before he walked beneath me I webbed his mouth and his chest and pulled him up to my level, a twist of my wrist spinning him at the apex to cocoon him. His eyes glittered angrily as I grabbed his ear piece to listen in upon their conversation. Then I finished webbing his legs up and slung him over my shoulder, absently snagging his dropped phone with a lazy web line. 

There was plenty of rooms upstairs to stash him – man these FBI guys weren’t skimping on their digs. Your hard earned tax dollar at work. He struggled some but once he was snuggly webbed in the bath I wiped then gingerly put his ear piece in. Ew. Bad guy cooties… “We have a positive on the Stacy Experiment at the Parker Residence. Sir, request permission to engage.” Oh. Shoot.

“Negative. Phase three is on the premises. He will lead the Parker’s and the Stacy Experiment to a secure location where suppressors will be used to contain the Stacy Experiment. Orders from above are to not engage. Even if the symbiote manifests and becomes hostile.” Gong said. I heard that in my headset and from the ground floor. What. The. Flock?!

“Roger that. Um. Sir. It appears we have new players on the scene. Some kind of SHEILD team with advanced robotic support and the Fantastic Four are en route to the Parker residence.” Dammit. Things were escalating out of control. 

“I have visual,” Gong noted. “Damn. How did they get involved? Pull back… avoid detection. Let’s hope Phase 3 doesn’t make a mess of this.” Gong instructed. “Dammit. I wish we had the tracker for Phase 5… she could mess everything up,” he muttered. Tracker. For… I was Phase 5 right? 

I slunk down to the ground floor again, moving stealthily along the corridor looking into doors. The first I checked was a darkened bedroom. There were three cots, all occupied by men relaxing or snoozing in tactical gear. Thwyp thwyp. I webbed them up quickly before they could react or raise the alarm, mouths then bodies. Lots of webbing. No noise other than muffled cries which didn’t carry over the noise of the TV. I moved into another similar door to find a second occupied bedroom. Three heads turned to stare. “What the-“ I webbed ones face then knocked him out with a blow to the jaw. The two remaining armored men grabbed at their guns and I webbed them before they could raise the alarm. Again the place was thick with webbing. I nodded in satisfaction.

Grinning perversely I moved into the main living room. There was some kind of op centre, about ten screens showing interior and exterior views of my… er Pete’s house. They’d put cameras in the house!?. Man that peeved me off. Surely it was illegal… I ground my teeth. The room was dark, lit coldly by the sterile light of a panel of flickering computer monitors. Gong sat at them, watching the screens with a predatory air. He had a bandage and plastic skin around his eyes and he looked angry. A few men watched the loud game, engrossed in the replay.

No hitting Gong. Not with his powers. Not a problem. I started webbing him, mouth first. He tried to swear as he fell, arms and legs swiftly webbed. He was unable to move. Then I moved rapidly through to the living room, jumping and flipping chaotically as I webbed the others. I caught them all by surprise. None of them raised the alarm. Good.

I turned on Gong. He was thrashing around, trying to hit anything with his body to spark his power. I webbed him tighter then hung him horizontal by numerous web lines at head height. Nothing to hit against now. I pushed him playfully and his angry tirade was muffled perfectly by my webs as he swung slowly. 

I turned from him to the screen and noticed the half eaten pack of chips. I ate them as I channel surfed. The Gwen – Stacy Experiment - was in the house along with the old clone it made me sad and angry and all kinds of frustrated seeing it there. So weird seeing my house through illegal spy cameras like this… Old clone – Phase three - was trying to convince them he was Richard Parker. Oh man, that was a low act even for these guys. I really wanted to wail on the FBI agents I’d captured but restrained the urge. It would only help Gong if I hit him after all and the others were just doing their jobs. Like the Nazis. Outside Pete’s house I could see SHEILD and the Fantastic Four approaching cautiously. Nick Fury and guys in some kind of heavy duty power armour. Maybe they were robots. Jeez! They were ready for bear. 

I then focused the digital map, checking the deployment of his agents. Two were in the street near Pete’s house. They also had a drone. These were the ones updating him but they were withdrawing as I watched. The rest of his men were here. Except for the old clone. I could deal with that. 

I rubbed my brow and reviewed my options. Watch or interfere. Neither appealed to me. The best I could think of was to get closer to watch and intervene if needed – I needed to talk to Peter but things seemed to crazy but I might need to get involved. Certainly the Stacy Experiment was super dangerous. Possibly the brainwashed old clone might be a threat– he seemed sincere in his belief that he was Pete’s dad. Man. Talk about messed up.

I swiftly raided the fridge and grabbed some cold pizza and some bottles of pop and started to eat them as I headed stealthily to the Parker residence, avoiding the two returning FBI agents. As I did so I considered where I might go if I kidnapped MJ and wanted to make her safe… truly she would only be safe if she and I were equals… if she had powers like me. If I was half deranged and wanted to give MJ Powers… “oh crap,” I muttered as I dropped my half eaten pizza. “Oscorp… where I got my powers.” God I hoped I was wrong. 

(Authors note. Please read Ultimate Spider-Man 103-105. These issues are pivotal to the origin of the Ultimate Spider-Woman. I’ve tried to write what follows as respectfully as possible to the source material. I fully acknowledge Brian Michael Bendis’ and Mark Bagley’s seminal work. Yep, standing on the shoulders of giants here. I’m hoping this perspective on the story is enjoyable to those that like the character. But read the comic. ‘Nuff said.)

When I arrived at the house it was clear everything had gone to hell. Pete wore power cuffs and Reed Richards was arguing with Nick Fury about arresting him and taking him into SHIELD custody. Fury was waiving around a pistol like he was freakin’ John Wayne. How had things come to this?!

Pete was crying and seemed to be defeated. “Just let it go. It’s over,” He said. What the hell? Man this was bull. I clenched my teeth. That wasn’t how Peter Parker ended. Not on my watch. There were guys in power armour with huge guns, the Fantastic Four… I exhaled and grinned crookedly. Not a problem for Spider-Woman!

I ran and jumped. And in that moment I found myself. Free of thought. Lost in action, grace and inhuman physical prowess. My worries and anxieties slipped away. I just was. I kicked Fury in his fat face, knocking him back into the Thing. My other heel nailed one of the exo-suit armour dudes. I gripped Pete by the shoulder. “Hey!” He cried out as I pivoted over him and kneed a second armour dude and kicked a third. The sound of smashing armour was music to my ears. Onomatopoeia never felt so good.

“Excuse me Mr Parker, your four o’clock is here.” I hoisted Pete and finishing my flip launched us both up and away, leaving everyone flat footed and gawking at us. “Nice night for it, Huh?” I wisecracked. I was still a hero. Still me. And this… This I could do.

“Wh- wh- wh-?” Pete spluttered in shock. I web swung us away as fast as I could. 

“Don’t rupture your spleen,” I advised lightly as I landed in a darkened back yard. People yelled and blundered about in my wake. No one expected this.

“Peter!” Johnny Storm called as he belatedly gave chase. Pete and I watched his trail of flame. We’d gotten away.

I eyed the power cuffs. “Hmmmm.” I considered them then ripped them off. Pete grimaced with worry and annoyance. I shrugged. “Follow me.” I said as I headed to the New Jersey Turnpike. We jumped a truck. Pete stared fixedly at me. At my mask. He sensed our inherent link. I was sure.

"Who are you?" asked Pete with an edge to his voice.

"Spider-Woman?" I replied, hoping he wouldn’t press. I really didn’t need to have this conversation with myself. I exhaled, stressed out. What did I say? I didn’t know how to answer his questions. He really didn’t need the knowledge of my existence complicating his life. And I… I was this strange reflection of him. An abomination of science run amuck. And I was a girl. Yep. Fully female. Why was I here? Did I want validation? Acceptance? Did I deserve it? If I unmasked there would be no hiding this. No backsies. I would be part of his life. Part of me wanted that. Part of me feared rejection.

"Who are you!?" he repeated.

He deserved to know. He needed to know. Eyes locked on his I lowered my mask to reveal my face. I swallowed, dreading his response. His certain rejection. He reached out and traced features that almost mirrored his own.

"You're me...?" he asked, almost reluctant to voice the words.

I grimaced. "Kinda sorta..." I grumbled, my emotions confused. I couldn’t return his gaze. I wasn’t ready for this. I felt like a pale reflection of my original self. A distorted one. What did he see? A girl… 

"I'm gonna vomit." He stated sourly.

"Yeah, I can see how that might be." I empathised quietly, disappointed and melancholy, an emptiness stealing through me. I’d been there myself and that was certainly a valid response. But that also hurt coming from him, even though I’d known this would not be a pleasant conversation. He could be forgiven his thoughtless response. This was all new and unexpected to him. But I’d hoped for more. I didn’t make myself this way.

"Please please please please tell me what's going on!" Pete pleaded. It was better than anger. At least he was trying to understand. Was giving me a chance to explain my existence.

I gathered my courage and I told him. “I'm uh... I'm a clone. Of you." It was just so damn hard to say.

"Like that scorpion thing? Is that what he is?” Pete asked.

“You saw him? Is he okay?” I asked, oddly worried for my fellow clone. Pete called him a thing… we were things. Not people. Copies. Fakes. Artificial monstrosities.

“Are there more?” Pete asked, ignoring my question.

I nodded grimly. “Yeah. That’s where we’re going. We’re going to find the others.” I said. I hoped we could find them. I had an inkling where they might go. There were a few places that were firmly entrenched in all our psyches. One in particular. God I hoped I was wrong. 

“Where did you come from? Did my father make you?” Pete pressed. 

Father? Oh, the old clone… I decided not to dispel that lie just yet. But I told him about me and my awakening. A Cliffs Notes version. Best to keep it simple. About Jessica and Ben Reilly. When I was done he was stunned. We sat on the truck, two kids in a world too messed up for words. “You ok?” I asked.

“No.” He responded woodenly. 

“Yeah. Me either.” I agreed. Being here beside him reinforced how wrong my body was. How unnatural my existence was. This was me. I was not me. It was mind numbing. And this had been done by our government, by the people meant to protect us and our liberty. Right then the world seemed rotten to its core.

“So are you me… or- or this Jessica person.” He asked as he tried to quantify me.

“I’m still you,” I confided. He deserved the truth. We had the same thoughts and memories. The same loves and hates. We were the same. Just… girl parts. Jeez.

“Ugh!” He bemoaned.

“Yeah. The thing is, they never got too-“ I started but he waived me down, face palming in frustration.

“Just! Just give me a second.” He pleaded as he struggled to absorb what I was. He frowned. “Why did you attack me before?”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Was I really such an idiot. Evidently so. “I didn’t, you kind of attacked me. I’m sorry if I didn’t respond better or explain myself better. I’ve only been alive a month and I’m having trouble remembering what are my memories and what are yours. I’m kind of having a meltdown here, too.” I explained. He didn’t seem to get how hard this was for me. How utterly messed up my very existence was. “At least you’re the real you! I’m – I’m not the real anything!” I stressed feeling horrible saying the truth. I was a mixed up copy. A distorted reflection. A misshaped doppelgänger. Heh. Miss shaped.. why did I always pun-ish myself wish words?

“Why aren’t I in a coma now? Shouldn’t my brain just give out on me now and just go into a coma!!?? My Dad, my aunt, Gwen, this…” he started to yell and he seemed to be speaking for the both of us, “who can take this much #$%^ in one day??? Where did this costume come from?” He grumbled.

“Well…” I filled Pete in on my escape tersely, not mentioning my run in with the symbiote or the FBI. “… once I got something vaguely resembling my bearings, my intention was to make sure none of them went and bothered MJ.” I explained. Or Aunt May… or Kitty Pryde. Kitty. My mouth went dry at the thought of her. And… Pete didn’t need to know where I’d been holing up. “But when I got to the neighbourhood, my brain froze up on me, it all rushed in on me.” Yeah but nah, Pete didn’t need to know about the FBI. That was my problem. “My head. I was out of it. That’s when you and I bumped into each other. Which didn’t help.”

Pete stared at me. “Someone took MJ? One of my – my – my clones took MJ?” Pete asked fearfully.

“I think so, yes. But man, I hope I am so, so, so wrong.” I said. In my mind I was imagining what craziness one of the half baked clones could get up too.

“She is missing. That is how my night started.” I could see the worry in his eyes. I felt the same way… I loved her too. But she could never love me. I knew it… I wasn’t Peter. I wasn’t her type… not anymore. Damn my emotions.

“I just don’t want her involved in any of this.” I stated, reigning in my worry and angst. I truly cared for MJ the same as Pete.

“You don’t?” Pete accused. 

God. I was a bit of an insensitive bastard sometimes. How could I be so mean? “I know, I was, uh, speaking for both of us. I came back to tell you all this, level with you, and there was Nick Fury, once again making every day a sun shiny day.” It was kind of true. I’d been coming here to protect my loved ones. But I wanted him to know this stuff too.

Peter rested his face wearily in his hands. “I’m – I’m just completely—“

"And here -look- this is the last place I could think of that one of us, in our delicate mental state, might bring MJ.” I said reluctantly.

“Where are we?” Pete asked but he knew.

“Jump,” I instructed as I leaped off the moving truck and then web swung towards the abandoned building.

"Oscorp? Why would someone bring her here?" he asked as he followed my lead.

"Let's just hope I'm wrong,” I said, fear gnawing at the pit of my stomach as we both headed into the foreboding building. But my intuition was strong on this. The place was a ruin and I idly wondered if Krystal and the other homeless squatters would use it as a place to live. Getting in was a simple wall crawl and swing. The place was huge and deserted. A lot of abandonment to search. Then we heard the crash.. And that’s where things went to a whole level of crazy. 

Pete froze. “Uh-“ 

“Oh.” I finished his thought. We were that in tune it was weird. It would have been funny except for the whole creepiness of the situation and MJ being kidnapped and… Yeah. Everything being nuts. There was another crash, an animalistic roar and more crashing.

We moved forward and both stared in shock. The six armed clone in the venom outfit lay out cold in the wreckage of a lab. The half face clone faced a huge, shaggy beast. A red furred bipedal thing all claws and fangs… red… fur… “just… just…” muttered the half faced clone, trying to calm the raging beast. 

The red fur was the thing that got me. I felt my heart drop. MJ. That had to be her. That insane half faced clone must have done this to her. I gritted my teeth and a part of me just closed down. I couldn’t think about MJ right now. I had to get this situation under control. 

“Please, please tell me that isn’t her!” Pete pleaded. We both knew it was.

“Hold on.” I said with a calmness that felt utterly wrong. I shot webbing from my fingers, snagged the unconscious six armed clone and pulled him out of harms way. “Rise and shine,” I said as I pulled back his mask. His face was monstrous. Half Peter’s, half spider. Fangs. Bristles. Pointed ears. I was glad I wasn’t him. 

“Just try and breathe. Give yourself a moment to-“ the half faced clone said to the furious beast as he dodged its razor sharp claw swipes.

The pure black eyes of spider Peter fluttered open and the six armed clone stared from me to Pete. “Oh my god.” Six arms gasped. His voice sounded off due to the teeth I guessed.

“We’ll do ‘oh my Gods’ later,” Pete said. “What is that?” He asked pointing a shaky hand at MJ.

“That idiot, he did do it,” six arms accused in horror, further confirming my fears. But part of me still hoped.

“Do what?” I asked with growing dread. I so wanted to be wrong. That couldn’t be MJ. Please no.

“He- he injected MJ with Oz.” Six arms said. 

I stared. My worst fears realised. That stuff drove people mad. Harry. Norman. Now MJ. The maddened beast that had been MJ snarled, towering over the cowering half face clone. Not MJ. Please no… it just… no.

“MJ…” Pete called. The beast paused, its monstrous face confused as it turned to focus on Peter. “It’s me. It’s me… please. Please stop,” Pete said calmly. The thing stared at Pete, comprehension dawning. 

“Hurr?” It growled inarticulately and then it started to change. Back. I watched with horror and hope, half sick with dread. It was shrinking in on itself. Hair receding to be replaced with the familiar smooth slim limbs of Mary Jane. She was coming back to us. Oh… Thank god! And she was naked. Oh god… I tried not to stare. Nothing I’d not seen before, I ruefully told myself, but it was MJ not me. I had to help her though.

“See, see? Now she can protect herself,” half face declared happily, almost triumphantly.

Pete laid him out with one punch. Six arms produced a torn sheet from somewhere and I draped it over MJ’s naked form. I fussed over her worriedly, concerned for her mental well-being more than anything. She was out cold though. Six arms stayed back and I sensed that because we were both girls he figured I was the best one to look after her in her unclothed state. I felt numb with worry. Sickened by my fellow clones idiocy. Guilty by association. I should have thought to come here sooner. 

“How?? How did you do that?? There’s no Oz here. This place is- is- it’s empty!! There’s nothing here! Where did you get to Oz from?” Pete growled angrily at the fearful half face clone. He voiced my thoughts. So weird…

“From me.” A familiar voice announced over the ruined lab. We turned to stare at Otto Octavius, Doc Ock… the metal armed freak! Well he didn’t have them now, but still… arrayed behind him stood Nick Fury, his SHEILD troops and the fantastic four. “His father.” 

Father? I stared at him. Who did this ass hat think he was? The man’s hubris was sickening. I stood slowly, sensing instinctively that I had a better grip on this situation than Pete despite my disgust and anger. I’d spent the last month getting my head around this insanity. Hating my creators and holding back my emotions. I’d not suspected Doc Ock being involved with all this, but it made a sick type of sense.

In that moment I really hated this guy - and clearly he pathologically hated me. He was vindictive, cruel and insane. Had he made me female as some kind of sick revenge for previous defeats at my hand? I shuddered. That would explain all the monstrous versions of me… Our existence wasn’t just to satisfy his amoral scientific curiosity. He’d made all of us wrong... we weren’t just cast in the distorted image of our original. This sick, crazy monster had sadistically warped us all. I felt the urge to kill him… and so did Pete. That…

Pete was going mad with rage. Not thinking. Wanting to kill. Ock was goading us. Goading Peter. I grabbed Pete, held him as he struggled to launch himself at Doc Ock and consequences be damned. We couldn’t kill this monster. Couldn’t cross that line. We were better than that. We weren’t monsters like him. No matter how we looked. Please let me not be a monster…

But Father? That made me sick to the bone. I’d had a surrogate father in uncle Ben. This vile excuse for humanity was not a father. He was… Argh! I should kill him. I felt Pete relax a little. Still ropable but under control for now. He got why I restrained him. He knew I had his back. That I was thinking clearly. But god I wanted to kill Octavius too. Maybe I should… but not with Pete here. He didn’t need to see a clone of him as a killer. 

No. More importantly I couldn’t. I was still Peter Parker. I was the same person uncle Ben had raised to respect human lifeI was no killer, no matter how much a person needed to be wiped off the face of the earth. If I did that, that would make Peter Parker a killer… I was Pete… But Otto as my father? Not ever. He could go to hell.

“Mister Parker… good to see you again,” Octavius said, condescending as hell. 

“Is that one of them, too, Octavius?” Nick Fury asked, looking at me and the other clones like we were the monsters. I felt my lip twitch with an angry snarl.

“Yes, General, both of them. And the one with the extra arms.” Otto said, full of himself, like he had everything under control. Like I said. Hubris… I gritted my teeth.

“Okay, Okay… all Parker people. I need you to gently and quietly get up and stand against the back wall.” Fury ordered. It had a final solution sound too it. I eyed his armed men. Line up against the wall and we’ll deal with you abominations… you non people. The hell with that!

“Yikes! Dude, what’s going on?” Johnny Storm asked with concern. He was floating, aflame. I eyed Ben and Reed. Where was Sue? Whatever. 

“I’m not messing around. I’m not having a spider-person tussle,” Fury growled, expecting obedience. “This is contained as of right now. Peter, you too.” He said, eying us all intensely. Peter Parker versus the world. 

Reed stretched forwards into the conversation. “Octavius, you made these clones?” I blinked at the question. What the hell? Who asks that?

“Easy Richards,” Fury warned sensing things could escalate easily.

“You cloned a female version of Peter Parker? You made this one with the extra arms?” Reeds asked animatedly. I got a sick sense from his question. Like he was interested in the science and damn the morality. This was me they were talking about. These sick mother-

“On one we denied a test clone it’s Y-chromosome sequence in phase two.” Otto said, almost gloating with Reed’s interest. I felt a weight descend on my shoulders. I was not some science experiment. Not some thing… but I was. 

“And that worked?” Richards asked. How could Reed just ask that? Not say ‘you’re insane’… but dispassionate, godless scientific interest. It made me sick. It was symptomatic of the mentality that made us.

“She’s standing right over there,” Otto said. Cold, raw hate coursed through my veins.

“Everyone take it easy,” Fury tried to control things.

I stepped forwards, fists balled. “You made me?” I snarled with pure vitriol. 

Otto turned to look at me. “Yes Jessica, I did. I was there at your birth. And you’re welcome.” Smug. Like he was some kind of doting parent. Like I owed him… he was there when I was born. I felt violated.

“I’m going to kill you,” I vowed quietly. 

Fury stepped between us, gun trained on me. My eyes widened. Didn’t he know the good guys – er gals from the bad? “Don’t. There’s been enough of that tonight.” He said.

“Yes, let’s please keep it civil. It’s been a very long day. I missed a dinner over this,” Otto quipped. I stared into the man’s shades. He was enjoying this. Arrogant, insane… goading and gloating.

Johnny Storm alighted and flamed off. “Dude is that – is that MJ?” He asked. I was hardly listening I was so angry.

“They ruined her.” Pete said plaintively. I turned and stared guiltily to regard her. I loved her too. Anger. Sorrow. Frustration. It hurt to just see her and know we would never be boyfriend and girlfriend again. Dammit. I’d broken up with her to stop this sort of crap from happening and yet it happened anyway… thanks to a clone like me…

“What’s happened too her?” Johnny asked. My heart went out too Pete. 

“She’s – she’s been infected with Oz. A chemical. And he ruined her.” Pete said coldly. 

The half faced clone interjected, “No. No, she’s okay now.” 

“Stop!” Pete told the failed clone, tears in his eyes.

“Okay, I’m creeped out. Reed, I know that girl. Can you fix her? You can fix her.” Johnny Storm asked his brother in law.

“No.” Said Fury firmly.

“No, what?” Johnny asked in a confrontational tone. I admired him for that. For standing up for his friends.

“Kid, we have a situation here that needs to be contained and you ‘Fantastic Four’ need to—“ Fury began.

“Dude, Reed’s taking her to the Baxter Building and the big brain is going to get to work on fixing her. She’s just a kid. A civilian. Are you seriously going to stand in our way?”Johnny snarked.

“If you aren’t helping this situation by obeying my orders, I want you and your team to leave.” Fury gave his ultimatum. I bristled at his words. Johnny was right. She needed help not some militant spook to lock her up.

Pete picked up MJ. “Please help her. P-please.” He begged plaintively of Reed. 

“I’ll do everything I can,” Reed promised as Ben took MJ. He placed a comforting hand on Pete’s shoulder. The half faced clone started to get agitated and I gripped his shirt to try and hold him. 

“Richards…” Fury growled, angry his orders were being countermanded.

The half faced clone struggled in my hands. “No! She’s going to be okay!! She’s-“

“Stop!” I told him as he grew more agitated. He wasn’t all there. Wasn’t quite right in the head. That’s how they’d made him. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t any of our faults.

“MJ!” He cried out, pulling free, his suit tearing in my hands so I held just shredded ruins of it. “MJ!!” He yelled again as he leaped. Fury’s men shot, plasma blasts hitting him square in the chest. I could smell burnt flesh. Just like that. A life snuffed our of existence. I stared in shock and felt horrified. Vulnerable. Isolated. They’d kill me with as little compunction. And this was SHEILD. The good guys… I felt angry. How dare they!

“Whoa, cease-“ Fury yelled but it was too late. 

“You don’t!” I snapped as I punched one of Fury’s power suited goons. 

“Stop!! Stop!! Cease fire and stop this &$%^ right now!” Fury ordered firing his plasma pistol at the roof.

Panting I reeled in my anger and lifted my hands. “Okay! Okay!” I called in surrender. They could kill me. Would kill me. I looked at the half faced clones smouldering body. He was dead. They’d killed him. Disposable clones. Not people. Not worth a seconds thought or regret. That was me too. I looked up at them through my long tangled hair and saw them for what they were. Thugs with guns. No better than the goons I dealt with on a daily basis. Just with badges and better gear…

“Everyone calm down,” Fury yelled. 

The air was toxic, palpable with hate, anger, condescension and bitterness. Peter looked ready to commit murder as he faced off against Otto. 

Fury waved his gun. “Fantastic Four, out!” He growled.

“Don’t give that look, Richards. I know how you and your family got your powers. What exactly is the difference other than the fact that I did this on purpose?” Otto Octavius mouthed off, jostling for moral superiority. I listened, seething in rage. My clone brother was dead and this insanity went on regardless. This couldn’t be how the world worked.

Ben loomed menacingly.“Why don’t you take that crappy haircut of yours and shove it up my-“ 

“Ben! We need to go now.” Reed interrupted. It was disappointing to lose his support.

“You want me to light this guy on fire?” Johnny Storm growled. I nodded. Burn it all. Raze this house of cards to the ground.

“Johnny!” Reed reprimanded, concerned by the tension.

“Out!” Fury snapped through gritted teeth, his patience tested. 

Ock huffed with an air of self importance. “Fury, I appreciate your good work in what is a very tense situation today. And these sentry drones are certainly impressive. My hat is off to you. But this is our problem and we’ll have transport ready to take all these young subjects back to safekeeping.”

Fury didn’t back down for a second. “Doctor. You ain’t taking %^$#. You got me. You got lots to answer for.” He moved into Ock’s personal space, facing him down.

A small smile edged Ock’s mouth as he regarded Fury through his dark glasses. “But I don’t answer to you, Fury.” I felt a growing unease.

Fury’s one good eye narrowed dangerously. “The minute this little house of horrors you supposedly created dropped onto civilian property – you better believe you do. You’re under arrest, Octavious!”

My fists balled as I stood behind Fury and Pete. I didn’t like being being called a little shop of horrors but I knew whose side of this argument I was on. 

“We’ll see. You might want to call my supervisor before you do that.” Otto is referring to Henry Gyrich of the FBI I’m pretty sure. “If you knew who that was? Do you wonder why you didn’t know this project was happening? Even though you’re the big super hero big shot of the world.” Otto sneers.

Issue 8: Resolution

“How did you do this, Octavious!? How are you not dead or in jail?” Pete interjects loudly.

“Back up Parker,” Fury warns.

“Tell me!” Pete demands.

“Back down,” Fury growls.

Octavius smiles as he twists the blade, “Tell you what, little boy? Tell you I was going to prison after you beat me up on television… but instead I made a deal with the federal government to work for them… to make a super soldier.” The asshat was starting to monologue. I just stared in growing horror. “It seems that there are a great many people in the United States government who truly hate Nick Fury and his band of self loathing super heroes. And they don’t want Nicholas Fury to be the only person in the country with his finger on what they call the ‘Captain America’ button. So thanks to the good people at the Federal Bureau of Investigation Special Project Research and Development … I get to continue my work. Which before I became ‘Doctor Octopus’ and before there was a Spider-Man or a Norman Osborn… before all the nonsense came down on my life… that’s who I was. My work.” He grinned. The nerve of this guy. The amoral inhumane gumption.

“You’re under arrest,” Fury said pointedly.

“Actually I’m not. I have credentials. And I have rights. Oh, and I’m outside your jurisdiction.” Octavious countered.

Pete was taken aback and started to ask. “How did you-“

“-make me?” I interrupted. No. I finished for him. Finished his thought. This was something we both wanted to know. This was a question I needed to ask. Even though I knew I’d hate the answer.

Otto seemed to primp and preen at the attention as he off handedly explained to Peter – not me. It’s like I was beneath him or something. “Oh that, we had a Peter Parker blood sample, Peter Parker. Confiscated from your friend, Doctor Curt Conners assistant actually. Ben Reilly, good man. And with it we went to work. And we’re in phase three of a super-soldier clone project. And you, sweety, are proof that it’s working.” He turns to me. Sweety? What the-?

Peter tenses beside me. He’s not going to let Octavious talk to me like that. Fury blocks Pete though. “Don’t,” he warns, gun arm interposed between Pete and Doc Ock.

Now Octavius shows his true face. Vindictive, spiteful, bitter, consumed by hate. I shudder. This is what we are. We are his revenge on Peter. I’m emasculated. Dead half face is a tortured mad husk. Six arms is a monstrous inhuman freak. MJ is a mutated beast. The old clone is a cuckoo father figure pushed into Peter’s nest. The tortured scorpion … the Stacy Experiment – Poor Gwen. Aunt May in hospital. SHEILD at Pete’s house. His identity blown. Octavious’ hand is in all of this. “Are you going to cry? I didn’t do anything to you boy. This isn’t about you. This is about my work. It just so happens that my work completely perverts and destroys every single part of you and your life.” He gloats. He’s been rehearsing this. I just know it. He is the monster. He is the perversion. Petty, small minded, egocentric… “Every. Single. Part.” I am Octavious’ revenge.

Otto keeps going. “Young man, what I know now is that all of our sordid history together… You and I.… All of our ugly fights as Spiderman and Dr Octopus with my metal arms… What happened, happened for a reason! Because of my ‘relationship’ with you I was then able to take the blood sample and understand its unique qualities. And from there I was able to clone a female version of you... I was able to mutate and biograft to you. I was able to tamper with one of the clones ageing process and even convince it, through psychic memory implants, that it was your father…” he said.

“What?” Peter asked in horror. He’s tells Pete about the old clone masquerading as his father. Pete is utterly devastated. I wish I’d told him about the clone and softened the blow. Doc Ock just keeps twisting the blade though. “This is the most important scientific breakthrough since Bruce Banner discovered gamma radiation. This is it. And I did it. Not your daddy, not Reed Richards, not Norman Osborne, not Tony Stark. It was me. And next year, when one thousand Thors descend on the Middle East and put that situation to rest once for once and for all… I will be given the Nobel Prize and a medal of honour. And, Peter, I promise… I will thank you.”

“My Father. That man- that’s not really my father.” Pete asks in a heart rending voice.

“Your father died in a plane crash, Peter. Wow, you really deluded yourself if you thought that man was your father.” Otto states maliciously. “ I thought you were supposed to be smart.”  
I watch Pete cry and see loss and grief and pain crystallise into determined purpose. Watching his resolve and strength return I feel the same emotions come over me. Peter Parker is a fighter. A hero. Peter Parker was always the underdog. Pushed down. Belittled. Underestimated. There are three Peter Parker’s here. We do what we always do. We pick ourselves up and keep on fighting for what we believe.

“You can look at me like that all you want. I’m not the bad guy here. All the guns in this room….Are pointed at you.” Octavious says.

“Fury… I’ll make a deal with you… Send your men for some coffee. Give me/us 10 minutes. After that – I’ll go with you. I’ll surrender. We all well.“ Pete offers evenly.

“Cute. Fury is not in charge of the situation. Fury, just do something useful and round up the Parkers for us. The Fed team is on its way here for cleanup. Use whatever force necessary. I can always make more.” Otto orders.

“Alright, boys… You heard the man.” Fury says and for a moment I think he means to listen to this mad man. “Everyone out. Set a perimeter around the building. Tinkerer, slide the slayers out.” I grin coldly.

“What??? What are you doing?” Otto asked. The conceited fool doesn’t seem to understand. I almost laughed at him. Except this was no laughing matter.

“You’re right, Otto. I’m not in charge of the situation. You are. Go be in charge.” Fury says over his shoulder as he leaves with all his men and killbots. The spider slayers.

“Are you insane??? You get back here and do your job!!” Otto yells belligerently at their retreating backs. You reap what you sow you bastard. Let the reaping begin…

“We’ll be outside.” Fury offered as he closes the heavy industrial door on us. 

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Well, I’m not going to engage myself in any of this. This is not the life I want for the new me. I have worked too hard and too – aargh!“ the six armed clone leaps at Otto, pushing Pete and I aside in his haste to get at Doc Ock. He’s even more angry than me and Pete. He’s a freakish monster and he wants Otto dead it seems.

“Hi ‘Daddy!’” Six arms growls as he grips Otto about the neck and forces him to the wall. 

“Stop it! Stop it right now!!” Otto orders. It’s as though he doesn’t expect anyone to attack him. 

“Who wants first dibs?” Six arms asks. We all do. 

“Oh! Oh, now what? You’re going to what?? Hit me? Will that make you feel better?”Otto gasps in rage.

“YES!!” Pete cries as he launches himself at Otto as well. Suddenly a heavy chunk of metal machinery flies across the room and hits Pete mid leap and crushes him back loudly. That… that’s new. Telekinesis? What’s going on?!

“Damn it!!! I wasn’t going to bring it to this level, Parker!!” The madman snaps. “I’ve tried so hard to keep this part of my life a secret!!”

“Oh, man!” Six arms says with dawning understanding as we all reevaluate the threat this monster poses. Rusty broken metal, cables, bolts, steel grates and panels and machines parts start to float about him, menacing.

“Are you kidding- Whoah!!” I dodge a flying monitor that hits Six arms and smashes into his back.

“My arms! My metal arms!!! The ones that made you think it was so funny to call me Dr Octopus!!” Otto clenches a fist and a Six inch diameter metal pipe javelins across the room and skewers Six arms through the chest, pinning his body to the wall like a bug. Six arms sags. Dead…! Oh god! No! “It wasn’t the arms, Peter!!! It was the metal! I could control the metal!!!” The metal that floated about him twisted and bent to his will as though alive, forming into four nightmarish tentacles that flailed about from his back. The things ended in razor sharp pincer claws. And the famed things started to flail at as. Pete and I dodged and weaved lithely, leaping and flipping nimbly with the full acrobatic grace that went with our powers. “I’m not going to mess around with you too!! Do you understand me? Jessica surrender right now or I’ll kill you just clone another!!” He vowed.

His threat only strengthened my resolve. I twisted and contorted in the air, chainsaw like metal limbs blurring in deadly steel loops that whipped frighteningly about me, my graceful arcs and movements informed by my spider senses which carried me through the maelstrom with scant inches to spare. “Oh the sweet talk, is it?? How about I rip of your head and use it as a—“ 

“Otto I swear to god-“ Peter started then a flailing limb lashed forth and hit him squarely, sending him flying limply into weak timber palettes that shattered and splintered under him.

“PETER!” I cried out in fear. 

“Next!!” Doc Ock crooned as he turned the full fury of his arms on me. 

“Argh!” I yelped as they smacked me but hard, knocking my head back and cutting and bruising my chin. “Hhgaaggh!” That hurt!

“The two of you together are nothing but a big—“ he taunted.

“Shush, no on cares!” I quieted him as I webbed his arms and started to swing him about like a huge lard assed shot put. “Now come here so I can—“ oh crap. What!? 

“Tsk—“ he sneered, “Using Peter Parker’s same old tricks. Even though the arms aren’t attached anymore.” Oh crap. His arms flew away but he stayed where he was! But they were snaking together about me and it was all I could do to just avoid their cold deadly embrace. “And I just told you that. Maybe I don’t need to make arms. But I like them. I got good at them. Call me crazy… I guess I liked being called Doctor Octopus.” A surging mass off metal flowed into me and pummelled my chest.

“Ow!!” I cried. I lay there, dazed and battered, the wind knocked out of me as Peter jumped back into the fray. 

“Young man, at this point it’s just immature of you not to admit defeat!!! It’s done!!” Doc Ock said as he rose up ten foot above the floor on his metal legs. Metal spun about the two combatants in a grinding hurricane.

“Whatever.” Peter grunted.

“Embrace it. This is what defines you as a man. How you handle just this kind of—-“ Pete punched an arm and the metal shattered. Doc Ock looked surprised. “No Whitt’s repartee this time?” Four arms smashed about the dancing and evading boy. The last Pete caught, then used the metal tentacles backswing to help launch himself at Doc Ock. “That’s how I know you’re scared, little boy.”

“No, that’s how you know…” I rejoined the fight, blindsiding Octavius with a brutal head kick, “He’s serious!” I pointed out. The blow landed with a satisfying cry and grunt from Octavius. His eyes flashed. I’d knocked off his glasses. “Embrace it, chuckles!! It’s what defines you as a— Whoops!” I narrowing dodged a metal pylon and lost my train of thought. 

“You dumb #$#%$$!! Why?? Why are you always involving yourself in my life’s work??! WHY??!!” He screamed as metal screeched in counterpoint, literally spinning all around us now as his rage and stupidity peaked. The warehouse was literally a grinding, humming, roaring tornado of circling metal and debris. Pete and I were both at our limits avoiding it, dodging, leaping, flipping. Then we started to get hit. Cut. Sliced. “Just die!!” Raked. We pushed harder. Faster. A blur with the whirlwind of metal. Ock grunted. He couldn’t see us. We moved too fast.

The two of us made eye contact and nodded. Two bodies but of one mind. Time to end it… “Hey, this ain’t metal is it?” Pete asked as he launched at Octavius. 

“Yeah, or this!” I asked as I rebounded beside Pete and led with a fist to Octavius’ jaw. We both connected and ended it, Octavius out cold and metal dropping to the ground now that the will behind it was knocked out. 

We stood over his probe form panting. “Guh!” Pete gasped.

“Buh!” I agreed as I struggled for breath.

“That- that felt good.” Pete observed. That’s what I’d been about to say.

“It’s lame it took two of us.” I noted wryly, trying to find comfort in banter. After what we’d been through it was hard. But worthwhile.

“Well, he had six arms.” Pete continued. This really was like having a conversation with myself. Yourself. Himself. Whatever. And my jokes were admittedly pretty lame.

“True.” I agreed. 

He looked at poor six arms pinned to the wall, limp, unmoving. “Is he dead?”

“Tsk. Yeah.” I said as I looked down at smouldering and lifeless half face. I felt a pang if sadness. Of frustration at a world that could do this.

“Oh man… this is so weird.” Pete said, still staring at his dead clone.

“Oh my God… they both are.” I said quietly. Dead. That could have been me. Or Pete. 

“This is weird.” Pete said. Like it was news to me… “Well, let’s go.” 

“Go where?” I asked.

“I made a promise.” He said, as though he was speaking for me.

“You’re going to surrender??” I asked dumbfounded.

“I made a promise.” Pete reiterated.

“Oh, forget Fury. He- he made Spider-Slayers!! You know, as in to slay you.” I argued.

“I have to face this.” Pete said stubbornly.

“There’s nothing to face.” I responded. Not for me. He was a human. A person. He existed. Me though. I could disappear and no one would ever know. SHEILD was going to treat us differently, I knew it.

Pete seemed like he was ready to throw himself under the bus. “If I run they’ll chase me. MJ and my aunts health and safety are more important than—“

“I’m not standing here arguing with myself,” I declared and swung out of there, just like that.

“Where are you going?” He called. I didn’t answer because I didn’t know.

Despite all the SHEILD agents securing the buildings perimeter I easily evaded them on my way out the back, my spider sense alerting me to the gap in their deployment. Once free of the building I circled around to the front and watched from a nearby rooftop vantage point as Pete emerged and faced off against Fury and the lead FBI agent, Henry Gyrich, Gong’s superior. I could hear snippets of the conversation as Pete confronted Gyrich. I frowned as I worked on my mask and inbuilt directional microphones gave me a clear reception of the conversation. A heads up display told me it was recording the audio and visual. Excellent.

And that’s when Johnny Storm fired down into their midst and Pete was air lifted away, much to everyone’s opposition . Headed to see MJ. So of course he hadn’t given himself up. Nicely done Pete.

I briefly watched Gyrich and Fury as they jockeyed for jurisdictional dominance. It was pretty clear that SHIELD was in control and Gyrich was trying to cover his ass and get out of this mess. Fury grinned and there wasn’t a hint of pleasure in it. “Like I was saying Henry. We’re in control here. Send your toy soldiers home. It must be way past their bed time. And so we are clear, your little black book operation is finished. We’ll take Otto and the meta corpses into our custody.” He held up a hand to stall Gyrich’s complaint. “You should worry about preparing your defence for your indictment. Last I checked human cloning violates the Melbourne protocols. The United States are a key signatory of those. In my experience those above you will cut bait and run. I hope you kept some good evidence to protect yourself or you’ll be the one taking the fall for this cluster-“

“You don’t intimidate me Fury. I have powerful and influential backers. They won’t back down as easily as you think.” Gyrich countered.

“You care to name names? I’d like to know who else will be up on the stand with you…” Fury asked speculatively and Gyrich responded by narrowing his eyes. “Yeah. I thought not. But… really? Otto Octavius. Something like this was bound to happen…” Fury said. 

“He is a genius.” Gyrich defended.

“Yeah.” Fury laughed wryly and shook his head. “That’s one way to describe his crazy ass. Now if you’ll excuse me. I have your mess to clean up.” Fury turned his back on Gyrich. 

“That’s FBI property,” Gyrich scowled and fumed in impotent rage then turned and angrily retreated, his FBI entourage moving to follow. Gong and his men piled into a pair of vans and Gyrich climbed into his SUV and they all headed out in a convey about the SUV. I swung ahead and using my fancy surveillance gizmos I monitored his car, still recording.

Sure enough he wasn’t a kilometre away before he made a phone call an his hands free phone. 

“Good evening. You’ve reaches Senator Stern’s office.” A polite male voice answered.

“Put me through to Senator Stern please. It’s Special Agent Gyrich.”

“Please hold,” the voice responded and the Girl From Ipanema hold music came on.

“Yes. I’ll hold… $&@##€!” He grumbled. 

Swinging above and monitoring his car like this was too easy.

Stern’s voice came over the hands free phone. “Gyrich. This line better be secure. We have processes in place-“

“Hello Senator. Yes this is a secure line. I’m not a fool. I have news that can’t wait. Fury has Octavius and the Stacy experiment in custody. Two of the five clones are dead. Two are unaccounted for-“ Gyrich reported.

“You lost two of them!?” Stern fumed.

Gyrich sounded defensive now. “Yes. They’re still at large. Scorpion is reported to be at the Baxter Building-“

“That’s just great. Still that was the least promising one…” Stern interrupted.

“Yes sir. He’s not much of a loss. Major cognitive issues. I doubt he’ll ever be able to cause us any problems and he was a failure from the start.” Gyrich agreed.

“The suit alone. That’s still a multi million dollar investment in research and development right there, let alone the cloning costs…” Stern admonished. 

“Yes sir. But-“ Gyrich struggled to regain his position.

“I’m holding you responsible for this…” Stern pressed.

“Yes sir. I- sorry sir.” Gyrich scrambled.

“So which other one remains. Give me some good news Gyrich.”Stern ordered.

“Yes. It’s Phase 5 – Jessica Drew. We’ve sanitised site one but she proved to be resourceful. She snuck in and stole her files and the ID documents we prepared for her.” Gyrich reported.

“Really. Hmmm she is resourceful.”Stern said thoughtfully.

“Yes sir. Agreed. We’ll catch her. Wipe her mind as we intended.” Gyrich promised.

“Yes. And when you reprogram her I want her. As my mistress…” Senator Stern said in a tone that made me shudder involuntarily.

“Um. Your mistress? I’m sure that can be arranged sir. It was always the intent to give her a father figure to control her. That would work. Yes sir. I-“ he paused in irritation and I felt a surge of disgust. Otto would doubtless have been the father figure. But some old fat Senator wanted to mindwipe me and... bile rose in my throat. Stern had just made my list. “Damn it. Hang up on me you crooked philandering…” the phone rang again. “Gyrich.” He said.

“Sir, we have eyes on the female clone,” an FBI agent said the hands free phone. “She’s following us-“

That’s when I got out of there. Swinging off into the night I felt a heaviness descend on me as I realised my troubles were just beginning. I headed back to our warehouse to wait for Peter. If I hung around the Baxter Building SHEILD would catch me for sure. And I had no intention of being in their custody…

***

Later that night Pete arrived at the warehouse where I was crashing. Still in his ruined clothes. “I thought I’d find you here.” He said.

“I know you did. That’s why I came here.” I responded as I met him on the gambrel roof. I was here because it was a good place to squat.

“That’s weird.” He observed.

“Everything about this is weird,” I observed as I double checked for any tails on him using the gear in my masks I sensed nothing so pulled it down.

“Congratulations, you’re the last clone standing.” He said sombrely.

I grinned tightly. “Man, I hope I don’t die.”

“How do you fee?” He asked. 

It was a loaded question. How honest should I be? “I feel pretty good. I’m hungry.” I confessed.

“Yeah. Me too. You should go to Nick Fury and have them run tests and—“ Pete began.

“Yeah, uh, no.” I stated flatly.

“But you might die—“ he started.

“You could die running into a man in a giant mechanical—“ 

He interrupted, finishing my sentence exactly as I’d thought it. “Rhino suit, yes. But—“

“Stepping on my jokes.” I butted in. It was funny and annoying and very very strange to be so in tune with someone. We really were mentally the same. Somehow I’d hoped… but here with him. It was painful in this soul crushing way. But also he totally got me. Like he kept saying. Weird.

“They’re my jokes.” He laughed. “We’re cool with Fury now. We’re okay.” 

I sighed. “Maybe you are. Me? Not so much. I’m done with shadowy figures of authority and people in white coats for a while.” I hoped. I wondered how done I was with Gong, Gyrich, Blain and Doc Phillips. I had Krystal to find after all. 

“Uh, what are you going to do?” He asked, honestly interested.

I couldn’t help myself. “I thought I’d go to school with you.” The look on his face was priceless. I let the shock linger then laughed with a shrug. “Kidding. Please… can you imagine?” I asked. I was deflecting. A part of me wanted to do that. But I knew it would be a train wreck. Aside from explaining it to everyone… Kitty Pryde and MJ would know. Flash Thompson might hit on me. People would see how similar we were and it would draw all kinds of attention down on us. Attention neither of us needed. Plus SHEILD. The FBI. 

“Uh, no.” Pete said, clearly uncomfortable. 

“Really.” I laughed it off. Yeah. I was done with Midtown High. But. I couldn’t look Pete in the eye as I said this next part. Because it felt like a lie. “No. I think I’m going to go elsewhere and start a life and be Jessica Drew and not Peter Parker because I think I kind of already am already.” That was a lie. I was Peter Parker but I had to become Jessica Drew. It was kind of depressing. 

“Well, really, the minute you started thinking for yourself you already became her,” Pete said. 

I rolled my eyes. I was a girl but… my thinking. Not so much. “Thank you, Michael Keaton. Yeah,so, I think I should just go do that.”

“You going to be a super hero?” Pete inquired.

“Maybe,” I said vaguely. I needed to figure stuff out. Lots of stuff! But I still had power. Still had responsibility. Yeah. I’d be a hero.

“You can be spider-girl if you want.” Pete suggested.

Yes spider-boy…”Woman.” I corrected.

“Okay.” He smiled.

He was giving me his blessing. Not that I needed it or doubted he’d give it… but it was nice. It was a big deal. “And thank you. You, uh, you got any money on you?” I asked hopefully, knowing the answer. 

“No.” He said.

“I gotta get some money.” I admitted. I was pretty cash strapped.

“Don’t rob a bank. You’ll make me look bad. Oh, uh, Aunt May knows I’m Spider-Man now.” He told me.

Oh. My. God. “Is she okay?” I felt my stomach drop.

“She’s-she will be.”he said.

“Thank god.” I exhaled.

“I know.” He agreed. 

“Really. And MJ?” I’d been wanting to ask about her from the start but it wasn’t my life now…

“Dodged that bullet,” he said with evident relief.

I smiled. Thank god! “Reed Richards is awesome.” I declared.

“He so is.” Pete fully agreed.

“We should be him when we grow up.” I decided.

“Okay. This is a very weird conversation.” Pete hedged.

“Yeah. I’m going to go,” I noted. I turned then paused and turned back. “Ready for the most awkward hug in the history of the planet?” I asked. 

“Uh…” he responded uncertainly.

The hell with it. I moved in and hugged him. I tried to ignore his slightly larger more muscular body. I tried to ignore my body or compare it to his. Tried to find that warm contented feeling you get when you hug someone you care about. When you’re at peace with another person. Family. I think we both found it. Yeah… “Well…” I breathed.

“Yeah…” he responded as we held onto each other. 

Then I fired my spinerets and was away. Don’t ever underestimate the power of a good hug true believers. I figured I’d do some errands before I returned to the warehouse to crash. I was too wired, hungry and I needed clothes. Time to go charity bin diving. Yay me.

Issue 9: Starting Over

I didn't have a clear idea of where I was going when I headed away from Pete and my improvised warehouse squat. I just needed to get away from him. From the confusion that was us. From myself. But you can never get away from yourself…

Were Pete and I the same person? Were we two parts of the same person? No I was me. A complete and separate individual. I didn't feel like the yin to his yang… I was a guy… but… as a girl I didn't hate my body. Actually, to be honest… it was me now. And that confused me.

I hadn't felt like me at the start when I first became conscious in my new body but that was gradually changing. I couldn't be Peter Parker even if I was a guy. Peter already existed. And no way could I be him as a girl. I just had to be me. Jessica Drew. Spider-Woman. But… was Jessica Drew just a disguise? No… I wanted a life.

I leaped and swung gracefully, smooth and supple limbed. It was enjoyable to move like this. Still exhilarating but different. My centre of gravity, weight distribution, flexibility and general poise were all subtly but distinctly different.

But … what was I to my former self? Certainly I represented something Pete didn't want to fully acknowledge or face. Something he was ashamed of and wanted to hold at arms length - but something I had to accept. I wasn't going to live in shame. I wasn't going to live a half life.

Ha. Half life? I was consciously and willfully distancing myself from my life, my loved ones, my friends, my school, my superhero identity. That was my life. Who was I really protecting? What identity was I keeping secret? Pete had literally come out as Spider-Man to Aunt May … but I still remained a secret. Hidden and unknown. Did I have a right to my life? Was I ashamed to be a clone? Was I ashamed for them to see me as a girl? I had too many questions. But I had my whole life to answer them I supposed.

But… I couldn't be part of Pete's life. Too many questions. Too many inconsistencies. Both our our secret identities would be compromised. And… there would be too many lies. That would be the worst part. The lies would be too painful for me. Too messy for everyone. Because I loved MJ and I was me, Peter. And she could never love me. Yeah. It was too dangerous for them.

As I swung I gravitated towards Welling Court in Astoria and it's murals. I liked them. They always calmed me when I looked at them.

But… clothes… that's when I remembered Welling Court also had a lot of charity bins, so I went there. As I came down Twelfth I heard a terrified cry and spotted a suspicious looking guy wearing a face mask waving a gun at a lady. She was walking her miniature schnauzer and my common sense told me he was a mugger. With a quick flick of my goggle controls I started recording, my optic lenses auto focusing and tracking the perp as he motioned her into the alley. I sighed as she fearfully headed into the dark secluded back alley.

"You know what this is lady. Your purse and jewelry, now. Or I start with Fifi…" he threatened her and her dog. He sounded and looked young – too young to be doing this.

"Please, I'll give you what I have, just don't hurt us!" The lady begged, her dog straining on its leash to get at him as things grew tense.

The mugger laughed, reveling in his power, the little dogs bravado and the woman's evident terror. Again I was struck by how immature he sounded.

Without thinking I converged on the alley above them, webbed him as I deftly looped the web strand over a fire escape rail and dropped down into the alley. As I came down he shot up with a startled cry, gun dropped as he flailed about comically. I picked up the pistol, unloaded it and snapped it in half. Then I turned and looked up at him and, shooting out a web, I snagged his bandana and unmasked him, getting a clear recording of his young face. He looked like he was barely out of his teens.

"Spider-Man!?" The lady mistakenly cried. It was dark in the alley. She was pretty scared and seemed near tears. Honest mistake under the circumstances but she realised her error as she moved in and hugged me in relief. "No… you're a girl." She sniffled as she held onto me and her dog barked at me, confused by its owners evident distress. "Quiet Kermit." The dog barked once more then contented itself with a menacing growl directed up at the would be juvenile delinquent mugger. She disentangled herself from my arms a little embarrassed. I could relate. She was in her mid twenties and pretty in a homely way, although her makeup was smeared by tears and her eyes were already all puffy.

"Uh… Spider-Woman… new hero in town," I said as I turned off the recording.

She regarded my shabby costume with wet glistening eyes. "Well thank you…" she looked up at the helplessly dangling mugger. "You're a life saver. Um. Do people give you rewards?" She asked, not sure what to say.

"Usually not. But… well… if you could spare some change… I'm famished and I'm broke…" I said ruefully.

"Change?" She reached into her hand bag and rummaged for her purse. Producing it she opened it and gave me a five and some ones. Ten bucks in total. I took it feeling much less heroic. "That's all I have. Sorry. Plastic age. No one carries cash anymore…"

"Thanks. You're a life saver." I said and turned to go.

"Uh, Spider-Woman, what about him?" She asked.

The dangling youth looked down at me and I realised he wasn't even twenty years old, probably seventeen. "You testify against me and my crew will mess you up lady…" he promised darkly.

"Your crew?" I asked. He had a nasty scar vertically through his face. Scar Face.

"Yeah. Mo Money ya dumb scrag." Scar Face grunted.

I'd heard of the gang. Everyone in Queens knew the local gangs. "Oh… right… um…" I played with the menu on my goggles. There was a wireless file transfer function. "I have video. Should make convicting you a slam dunk…" It took a minute but I paired with the ladies phone and sent the file through. And then I sent it to the local precincts e-mail with a gps marker. "The cops have the mugging footage pal. Even if she doesn't want to give evidence you will go to jail or juvenile prison or whatever. Tell you what. If you do anything to her I'll sell the footage to the Bugle. How much street cred you gonna get when everyone sees you webbed up. On the news…. Better still…" I turned on my camera again and filmed as I webbed his pants and pulled them down. "With your tiny junk on display." I asked, zooming in on his face then down. "What do you think your street name will be if I let this footage out in the world? Lil Jewels. Ice Balls…"

"You! Mo Money will sort you out!" He threatened.

"Mo Money? Yeah good one lil jelly beans. You just shamed not only yourself but your gang…"I observed.

The lady laughed then frowned as we headed out of the alley, Scar Face cursing us. "You know… I'm a part time actress. Mainly stage, small productions and a few adverts. It helps pay the bills, but, I'm doing too great. Funny thing is, this could help my profile. I… I have an agent. Not sure if you're into the endorsement thing, but it pays okay…" she reached into her satchel and produced a card. "He's okay. Honest and straightforward. You could do worse. If you're interested that is. You seem to have a dramatic flair."

I took the card. "Hmmm." I'd tried to profit off my powers once and things went majorly pear shaped. But this could be handy. I considered it. My wrestling career… that had been a mistake. No. The way I'd handled it had been a mistake. It was an option. "Thanks. Mention me to him. Er… I didn't get your name."

"Tanya Speidling."She said.

"Thanks Tanya." I swung off to find my thrift shop bin.

I finished off the last bite of my Frog burger and fries super combo meal and washed it down with a Lily Pond soda to the relentless sound of a cycling clothes dryer. I was coming to the conclusion that food tasted a little different now. I usually liked Frog Burgers and they were ubiquitously the same at all their franchise stores - but this burger tasted somehow … off. Hmmm. That was unexpected. Maybe my brains wiring and biology were different. Heh. There's a surprise. I was no longer a fan. Damn you Doc Ock!

I idly flipped through a gossip rag on top of the unsavory pile of magazines. The tabloids held no appeal but searching amongst them I found a dog eared Far Side book and, well, that amused me for a bit. I was still a science nerd and the humour appealed to me.

I sighed, still hungry but not famished. My new clothes itched. They smelled of moth balls. They were ill fitting and I didn't really like them. I'd throw them back in the welfare bin soon enough but for now I rankled in them. I'd grabbed the t-shirt, woolen jumper and jeans from a handy welfare dumpster and my tattered costume and the other clothing I'd taken happily tumbled away in the large clothes dryer post wash. These were the cleanest looking and least smelliest clothes I could find. I really needed shoes and underwear.

Damn. I'd sunk so low, begging for food and laundry money. It still made me feel… wrong. I'd never asked someone I'd saved for money. But I really needed clean clothes and a cheap burger.

I realised that one of the joys of being alone and homeless was going to be the washing of clothes ritual. I'd need to get used to it. No Aunt May to mother me… The machine beeped and I grabbed the dry clothes, looked about and then quickly changed in back corner away from prying eyes and the CCTV cameras. I felt better immediately. Clean fresh warm clothes, even second hand ones, were important. I stuffed the clothes I'd been wearing in a plastic bag and the other clean clothes in my cardboard box. I'd washed my outfit too – the hi tech goggles came out. My Spider-Woman suit's colours didn't run which was good. Hopefully it wouldn't shrink. I was self conscious enough in that skin tight outfit without it being any tighter.

I stared off into the distance glumly. Not having a home. I didn't like that. I needed to find a safe place to sleep. Someplace clean and warm. The warehouse was linked to him. Peter. I couldn't keep staying there. Besides it wasn't safe. I could take care of myself but I needed a real home.

As I exited the all night laundromat I noticed a kid in the adjacent alley. He was, busy with spray painting a wall. I crossed the road and he briefly eyed me then returned to his work. He was doing a mural. "Nice work," I said as he sprayed. It was. A giant name 'Lyfe' was exploding with verdant green vines and bright flowers literally tearing out of a faux brick wall. It had the feel of an optical illusion about it.

"Thanks." He said, not looking up. He wore a bandana on his mouth and nose and had short cropped hair. I was reminded of the mugger. Lots of bandannas lately…

"I think I've seen your work around." I said. One of the things you notice when you web around New York and stop muggers in alley is all the street art and Astoria was renowned for its murals. Lyfe popped up a bit and the themes he covered tended to have a nature vs urban environment theme that appealed to me. They also often had social commentary on homelessness. "You live on the streets?" I asked bluntly. "Cause… your art…"

Lyfe looked up at me and eyed my box and the laundromat I'd come from. "You come right to the point don't you. Yeah. For a while. I got a car I crash in mostly. You?" He put down one can, shook another and went back to his mural.

"Yeah. Newly homeless. Hey, you don't know Krystal do you?" I asked hopefully.

"Um…." He frowned. "Hang on… Krystal. Yeah maybe. Moves around a bit. I think I saw her at the factory before it burned down. She's a regular on the spider circuit."

"Oh, you mean the condemned buildings from all the super hero fights?" I asked as I watched Lyfe work, admiring the guy's evident skill and panache, and taking note of how he used the paint to achieve various affects.

"Yeah. That one. But I haven't seen her for a while." He said. A passing patrol car suddenly flashed its lights. "Dang. This isn't a designated mural wall. Let's book!" He said.

"You kids stop!" Lyfe swore as he grabbed at his bag, spray paint cans scattering all over the alley. He grimaced for a moment then ran, leaving the cans. The police car turned into the alley and approached. I picked up the scattered spray paint cans and put them in my box as a cop climbed out. "You girl. Put down the box. Come over here." The policeman said as he moved towards me. I had all the spray paint by then and I turned and ran after Lyfe. The cop chased but there was not a chance he was catching me. I rounded a corner and sprang straight up, webbing and swinging out of the alley onto a rooftop. By the time my chasing cop rounded the corner I was long gone.

I ran over the roof and looked in the nearby alleys till I spotted Lyfe hiding behind a mesh fence and some dumpsters. Quietly I jumped down behind a pile of pallets and walked out. "Hey. Where did you last see Krystal?" I asked. He nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise.

Lyfe was annoyed. "Leave me alone. You're bad luck. I just lost over a hundred bucks of spray paint." He complained.

I opened my box. "You mean this paint?" I showed him. The bag with my un ashes clothes was stained with wet paint but my freshly washed clothes were fine thank god. He grabbed the box and pulled out his cans, checking to make sure they were all there.

"Sweet! Thanks. How did you… damn you must be quick to outrun the man like that." He said with a grin.

"I have my moments. So what else do you know about Krystal." I asked.

"Who is she to you?" Lyfe asked as he put his paints away in his bag.

"A friend. We dossed together and she helped me through a bad time. I think she might be in trouble herself now. You know cause she… Disappeared." I explained.

Lyfe grew serious. "Missing. Really? Damn. I'm Lyfe.." He said.

"I figured," I said. "Jessica. Uh Jess." I felt more like a Jess now for some reason.

"You can hang with me if you like. I'm on the circuit too sometimes. My car is a small wagon and sometimes it gets cramped so I don't always sleep in it. She might have had some friends." Lyfe sighed. "I'm going to go to the shelter for a meal. You should come. It's almost closing time for the kitchen. Maybe you can spot for me later tomorrow night when I go back to finish my mural."

My stomach growled. "Food? Sounds good." I agreed. That had been a small burger combo. "Hey, do you think you could show me how to use spray paint."

He bit his lip and considered. "The paint ain't cheap but since you saved it from being confiscated I guess. What did you want to do."

"Your name is your tag right. I was thinking…" I grinned and reached into his bag and took out a maroon coloured spray paint can. I wrote on the wall in big capitals 'PHA5E'.

"Hmmph. Why?" He asked.

My grin widened. "I mean to become infamous. And cause problems…"

Lyfe laughed. "Don't we all. Come on. I'm hungry. We can work on the mural later. Once the cops move on." He led the way to the shelter.

"Yeah food sounds good, especially if it's free... Hey. Um. You're young. My age. Fifteen right? Um. Do you go to school?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's hard, not going to school but being homeless. You don't choose this life, but for me it's better than the alternative. But school… is mostly good. I'm at Long Island City High. The McKinney-Vento Act… that's a thing to help homeless students. They let you enroll in school immediately, even if you don't have the documents normally required for enrollment, cause it's the law that we have to be in school till the end of the year we turn sixteen. That's two more years for me. The school staff try and look out for you and cut you some slack, the counsellors have programs to assist homeless students…. There are more homeless students than you'd expect nowadays. One in ten roughly in New York City. Some of the kids at school can make life hell…" he shrugged. "But it's a bit of stability and consistency mostly."

"I'm thinking of looking for a school in Astoria…" I said, giving voice to my percolating thoughts and desires.

"Here? Well you'll probably end up at Long Island City High with me…" he said. "Good school."

"Yeah… now did you say food?" I said with a grin.

"For such a slim girl you wouldn't think you would eat so much." Lyfe observed as I came back with my third heaped helping. The shelter kitchen was empty, the food was microwaved. It was getting late. We sat at an ancient wooden trestle table on sturdy bench seat, worn to a dirty polish, carved with initials and stained with ages of use. Above us a fan spun lazily and its bladed shadows circled about us.

"Hollow legs," I said as I tucked into my latest serving of steaming food. Truth was organic web shooters were pretty draining, as was an enhanced metabolism and feats of amazing strength. I needed calories and bio-matter to be the ultimate Spider-Woman, more so than ever. The plus side was that I would definitely save money by not having to make webbing for web shooters. Those materials were expensive. "So this disappearing stuff. You didn't seem too surprised. What do you know?" I used my bent spoon to punctuate my words.

Lyfe shrugged as he sipped his juice box. "Not much. There are rumours- Oh. Crap. Mo Money crew…." He muttered as he stared in worry. Three guys had just entered through the main doors. One pointed at us and the other two glanced our way and started to move through the furniture to our table, footfalls loud on the oaken floors. One wore a backwards baseball cap, one had an eye brow piercing and one was manscaping a truly ridiculous attempt at a beard.

"Trouble?" I asked as I chewed noisily. Scar Face the pantless mugger was a Mo Money gang member. From memory it was a decent sized gang in Astoria. I'd run into them before over Drugs – pot mainly which I ignored – webbing up sellers fmoving harder drugs, catching small time snatch and grab stuff – this was often young members trying to get street cred - and busting up fist fights with other gangs or between gang members. Well Spider-Man had.

"Kinda. Those guys are a little crazy, they go to my school but they're a few years ahead they have younger members in my year though. They like to rough up people and take their money. Mine in particular." Lyfe said as he looked for a way out. "It's not like I have much money…"

"Surely they can't do anything to you here, right?" I asked. I absently sized them up. I judged them hardly on a par with most rent a goons. Teen hell raisers. They had a bad vibe about them though. Young predators. More dangerous cause they had something to prove. If they started anything I could finish it. But I didn't need to draw attention to myself.

The one in the baseball cap sat down next to Lyfe, brow piercing sat beside me. The try hard bearded hipster stood to the side, trying to look imposing and not quite nailing it.

"Roger. Do you have that money you owe me?" Hipster asked, his grin showing yellowed teeth.

"Wait. You told me your name was Lyfe." I said. The three toughs didn't appreciate being interrupted. "Roger…"

"Phase," Lyfe warned warily. I appreciated that he didn't use my name. Why would I want these guys to know my name? Anonymity seemed like a good idea.

Eye brow piercing placed a hand on my leg and rubbed it. My jaw tightened in irritation at his taking liberty with my leg. No it was more than irritation. The sexual connotations of this were too clear and they honestly shocked me. "Phase Huh? You look like fresh meat," he said. He had bad breath. They all needed a shower. I was furious. This was a whole new thing for me and … yeah I stopped thinking completely rationally.

It was with a visible effort of will that I did not break his hand. My eyes narrowed dangerously though. "Hands off," I growled, pushing away his hand. My voice sounded off. Dammit. It was clearly emotional. I reigned in my emotions as the three snickered, knowing they were getting to me. "He owes you money?" I asked, trying to guide them back on track.

"Plus interest." Baseball cap said moving close into my personal space and sniffing me. It was a whole new level of Eewwww!

"Compound or simple?" I asked, jaws clenched. Lyfe gave me a look, silently pleading me to stay out of it. The thing was, after the night I'd had and how they were treating me, I wasn't going to let this crap slide. No way. Uh uh.

The three stared. "You sassing us?" Brow asked as he gripped my leg again, this time tighter and higher up my inner thigh. No doubt about it, he was trying to intimidate me. I'd been crushed by super villains. This guys' hand was nothing. Still I really didn't like him touching me like this. I really, realy didn't. It was kinda nauseating and … yeah no. Just so wrong.

I watched them with overwhelming irritation. My voice became dark and dangerous and brittle. "I'm not sassing you. I'm just trying to establish what my friend owes. But… I'd really appreciate it if you kept your hands to yourself." I gripped Brows hand and none too gently removed it as I stood. He clearly didn't like that and he stood too, looking down at me. I shook my head, face scowling with disgust.

Hipster took Lyfe's bag, looked inside and grinned. He zipped up the bag. "This will do for a start."

"I think you'll be returning Lyfe's bag." I told them as I moved to grab my new friends' property. Predictably Hipster threw it to Brow. But I caught it. They blinked. I'd moved pretty fast. Not inhumanly so, but close.

Hipster went to grab. I twisted and his grab missed the bag. But he wasn't going for the bag. He grabbed my chest. "Hmmm."

I froze in shock. How had that hand even landed?! I knocked his hand away. They laughed mockingly. I was so done with these guys. They'd crossed a line. "Come on kids. Let's take this game outside." I tossed Lyfe's bag back to him. "I need to educate you boys on the various forms of interest and lack of interest."

I moved away from them. Sensing a clear challenge to their authority from what they assumed to be a weak, defenseless victim, they followed. I walked outside and unhurriedly crossed the road without looking, entering a dirty rubbish strewn alley hemmed by fire escapes and laundry lines, bare feet avoiding the wetter slimier things littered about. I walked down it casual as you please. I was really angry.

I could imagine what these guys were thinking. What they thought of me. And it heightened my rage. Most people… most girls wouldn't be able to do what I could do to teach these punks proper respect and boundaries. When we turned a corner and reached a secluded place amongst miasmic dumpsters and piled black garbage bags I turned about and eyed them, expecting utter childish chauvinistic stupidity.

The alley stank of urine and rubbish. Above me air conditioners rattled and thrummed. In the distance the low sonic hiss of the city rumbled. A street lamp flickered.

I remembered Master Gong's lessons and tried to relax. But I was livid. A calm purpose was not within my grasp. An angry one was. Time to practice what I'd learned. No spider powers, no super speed or strength. Just simple applied physics. I motioned for one to approach with a wave of one hand that was pure Hong Kong action cinema. I struggled with the urge to destroy these three animals as we squared off.

They postured and laughed and made comments that I won't repeat. I felt my anger grow heavier within me.

Brow moved forward cockily and tried to grab me. I clasped his wrist, pulled and twisted and he stumbled behind me into bags of garbage. I heard them tear wetly and he cried in disgust as slippery smelly garbage spilled over him.

Baseball cap drew a butterfly knife, the blade flashing as he artfully flipped and spun it about with exaggerated flourishes.

"You auditioning for America's got Talent?" I asked in disgusted amusement. A guy attacking a defenceless person with a knife. Pitiful.

"You little cow…" And with a growl he lunged and slashed.

I knocked his knife thrust aside with an open palmed movement then followed through with a swift blow to his solar plexus. He gasped as I winded him, straining to breath. I plucked the blade from his hands and considered it for a moment. Never really used a knife before. I shrugged and tossed it in the piles of moldering garbage. Baseball bent over gasping and hiccuping, the fight knocked out of him.

Hipster sneered and drew a small revolver. "Really?" I shook my head. He held it gangster style on its side.

"Nice moves for a skirt. I want to see more… The three of us are going to have a little party. And you'll be our party girl. Strip." He ordered.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, almost amazed. I was almost sick with disgust. But my boiling anger won out.

"I said strip. Clothes off. Now." The young punk motioned with his gun.

I tilted my head. "Really?" I felt like face palming in frustration at the sheer idiocy. I moved to the side. He tried to keep me in his sights as I moved forward and ducked then twisted the other way under his aiming arm. With a quick and practiced move I easily had the gun in my hands, Hipster crying out in pain as his fingers twisted and one dislocated. "Hmmm that does work… thanks Gong. Now where were we. Oh yeah. You three wanted to party… and were about to strip." I smiled mirthlessly.

Again they stared. I exhaled, trying not to be angry. Trying and failing. "Damn… My meal is getting cold. Strip. In your underwear. Now." I shot the pistol. It made a satisfyingly intimidating noise as the bullet bit into the nearby brick wall.

That got them moving. Soon all three of them were butt assed naked and angry as heck. "Good. Now pass me your clothes." I motioned with the gun. I wasn't a fan of these things but I wasn't going to mask or superpower up in front of these idiots.

But… how had I ended up here holding a gun?! It had been stupid coming here. Why had I escalated things like this – as Jess and not as Spider-Woman? It was because of the day I'd had and how they'd... I was tired, angry and emotionally wrecked. That led to stupid decisions. But they'd… I shivered. I'd never dealt with something like this before. Never considered it from this perspective.

They obeyed, murder in their eyes. "You're going to regret this girl," Brow threatened.

I looked at their pasty repulsive bodies. "I already do," I shuddered. This sight would haunt my nightmares no doubt. What was I doing? This wasn't me…

"You're making a big mistake," Hipster sneered, "me and my crew will make you regret this."

"I doubt it…" I stated. But I was already regretting this. It had got out of hand. They knew about me now. I wasn't Puny Parker. I was a girl that could take on three armed guys in an alley. This wasn't keeping a low profile. This was something people would talk about. Maybe. If their egos let them… but I was still angry. Angry at them and now angry at myself.

I took their clothes and fished out their wallets, phones, some cash and about thirty ziplock bags with a greenish powder in it from their pockets. "Well Julio Hernandez." I compared brow with his picture. "Emile Jackson," I looked Hipster over. "And Mathew Crozier." Baseball cap. "Looks like you lads have been up too no good. Trafficking in hard drugs. Hmmm." I put down their wallets, cash and phones. "Let this be a lesson boys. Be polite. Don't go touching girls without their permission. No means no… I'll see you around. Oh. And enjoy your party without me..." I took their clothes and drugs and left. Turning a corner I jumped up to a nearby roof. I heard bare feet chase me and then swearing as they found me gone. I wiped down and dumped the gun, knife, drugs and clothes in a nearby dumpster.

A minute later I was heading back to the shelter from the opposite direction to which I'd left. Lyfe stared. "What happened? Are you ok?" He asked. "I thought I heard a shot."

I shook my head. "Nah. It's all good. They chased me and I lost them. Turned around and came back. Is my meal still there?"

"Er. I think so." He responded as the police car from before pulled up and two officers spoke to a concerned bystander who pointed down the dirty alley. I ducked and shielded my features as we moved inside as inconspicuously as possible. I sat with my back to the street.

As I finished up my food Lyfe scowled and filled me in what was happening. "The cops have Julio, Emile and M.C. in cuffs. They're almostvnaked. What the hell?!"

I shrugged uncomfortably. "Really? They must have been having a party." I suggested.

"Yeah. A party huh?" Lyfe gave me a weird look. "Those guys are part of the Mo Money crew. You're poking a hornets nest. They don't know you but they know me…" He exhaled in annoyance and worry. "Hells bells… look I have to get back to my car to get to bed. I have school tomorrow."

"Ok. See you later." I responded woodenly and headed back to my warehouse squat. I realised I needed proper clothes. I couldn't go around half dressed. Maybe if I'd had a bra… I exhaled. This went against everything I believed in but…

On my way back to the warehouse I slipped into an apartment store and grabbed three pairs of socks, three cotton panties and three sports bras. I checked the fit of a pair of leather shoes. I grunted in satisfaction. I stuffed them all in my box and then headed for the exit. Shoplifting with spider sense is too easy. I could never do this again… but this was an emergency.

I'd prevented a robbery from this shop before. A days earning, over five thousand dollars in cash. I tried to convince myself what I was doing was necessary. That I wasn't a criminal. I failed. So I walked out with about a hundred dollars worth of stock. I felt like a criminal.

This was not my proudest moment… but I had what I needed. The basics. I was sorely troubled as I swung back to the warehouse. I climbed numbly into my makeshift bed and slept, feeling like a fraud and a hypocrite and a failure.

That night I didn't share any dreams or memories of Peter Parker. That was a first. But I slept fitfully, troubled by dreams of Doc Ock, being caught shoplifting and reviled, of a heartless Henry Gyrich, of an angry Gong, of piles of dead clones all me but not me, of a piteous red furred thing that I had failed, of a heartbroken Kitty Pryde.

… but the worst…

The worst dream was that of an immense alien presence, something ancient and brooding, a thing that menaced, that sent horrible blood red barbed tentacles out from its outre, bubbling, seething mass, a thing of cruel liquid pseudopods that squirmed and wriggled obscenely, that swam purposefully through silent starless voids, searching. I hid, sheltered in the darkness, afraid it might see me. Skulking in cowardly terror.

I awoke in a sweat and couldn't get back to sleep, an uneasy sense of foreboding haunting me. I stared upwards at the dust covered and cobwebbed saw tooth trusses, eyes searching through the weirdly shifting and oddly angling and curving shadows cast by the streetlights, waxing moon and passing cars. I was reminded of an early German impressionist movie I'd seen with Kitty, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. My sense of unhinged anxiety was not helped by the parade of bizarre and twisted shadows before me.

Somewhere a rat scampered and I pulled by sleeping bag closer about me. I hate rats…

My thoughts turned to Gwen. The Stacy Experiment they'd called it. Was it Gwen? Or was it the symbiote? The thing had taken something from me when I first fought it. I think it took back that part of itself that was within me and that somehow linked me to Peter's waking life. The symbiote has made me Peter in this body. The symbiote… I thought I knew what it was. Had my dad really created it? Or did it come from somewhere else. Some other time. Some other… I swallowed as I tried to remember my dream. That gulf I had dreamed. It wasn't a where or a when. It felt like something outside space and time… and I was still inextricably linked to it.

Yeah I wasn't going to sleep again tonight.

Issue 10: Skool Daze

"Jessica, have you finished the paperwork?" The lady at the school office asked. Long Island City High felt like a good school and I was keen to get to classes and regain some normalcy in my life. The school was built of reddish brown brick, stood six storeys high and they called it LIC. The campus looked a little tired and underfunded. The office looked like it was from the previous century. But it ran smoothly and the people seemed enthusiastic.

"Uh, Yeah," I responded. Using the ID from the FBI I was enrolling under the McKinney-Vento Act. I didn't have transcripts. I'd figure out school transcripts later. But it was back into year 9 for me. I wanted to sign up for AP maths – algebra and calculus, physics, biology and chemistry classes. English literature and drawing. Plus the required physical education, social studies and language classes.

The lady eyed me. "You're up for all these Jess?" She asked.

"Yeah. I am." I tapped my head. "I need to challenge myself."

"Ok. Do you know anyone here?" She asked.

I shook my head. "Not really. A guy named Roger." Aka Lyfe… And three Mo Money gang members - Julio Hernandez aka brow, Emile Jackson aka Hipster and Mathew Crozier aka baseball cap aka MC. "Um not really."

"That's fine. Well we'll get you a buddy to show you around… come back here at lunch time and we can sort out some of this paperwork, and you can meet your buddy," she typed away then printed out my course list and timetable and pointed me through it. "Floor number. Room number. Teachers name. The room numbers are ascending east to west. Just show the teacher your itinerary. Mr Robins', the guidance counselled, his details are at the bottom. Your locker number and combination lock. Your laptop – take good care of it… The toilets and drinking fountains are at the east end of each floor. Good luck Jess". The bell went off signaling the end of first period.

"Got it. Thanks."I headed to my first class, Drawing. Moving through the crowded corridors I tried to find my bearings and frowned when I spotted the three Mo Money gang members from the previous night dawdling in the corridor. They didn't see me so I lowered my head and moved past them. I sighed in relief. I didn't want to get in trouble on my first day. I found my class and headed in. I spotted Lyfe and nodded to him as I showed the teacher my transfer printout.

"Jessica. Welcome to LIC," he greeted me. I felt the curious eyes of other students on my back. "I'm Mr Jones. We're happy to have you in our Drawing Class. Everyone, this is Jessica Drew, our new transfer student. Let's make her welcome. Jess would you like to tell everyone about yourself?" Mr Smith offered.

"Um. Sure… hey. Yeah. Just transferred. It's just Jess. Still figuring things out here. Would appreciate any help. Looking forward to getting to know you all." I'd been giving my encounter with Mo Money some thought. "I'm generally a sciences and maths student but I've been studying mixed martial arts since I was a kid… so… hi." I waved.

"Wax on, wax off!" Someone joked. No one laughed.

"Thanks Jess. Draw up a seat." Mr Jones said. Again no one laughed.

I went over to Lyfe. "Hey. Um-" I wasn't sure what to call him.

"It's Roger here." He said.

"Okay. Yeah. I can't really draw that well. But I want to learn." I observed.

A girl beside him looked up from her sketch pad and nodded. "'Sup? I'm Michelle." She said. "Ignore my dad. He thinks he's funny."

"Hey Michelle. Jess Drew." I redundantly introduced myself. I looked from the African American teacher to Michelle, noting the familial similarities.

"Yeah. I figured. Ironic name," Michelle observed, eyes indicating the drawing studio.

"Yeah. A real misnomer." I agreed. She was weird in a cute sorta way.

Michelle returned her attention back to her sketch pad as Roger showed me his growing portfolio. It was really good and it excited me. Then class began, the teacher quieting us. "Alright class. Let's get started. The set reading… Impressionism, post-impressionism and fauvism." Mr Jones said. "Who can tell me the difference?"

In morning break I wall crawled stealthily up to the roof of the school building to work on the problem of my school transcripts. I wanted a quiet place to think and I figured this would be pretty private and I was right. The view from up here was great. I admired it for a while before I focused on my current problem. I had no school transcripts. I mulled over that.

What I really needed was to copy and rename Peter Parker's school transcripts, lodge them on the Mid Town High system and get them to transfer them to LIC. To do that I needed to sneak into Mid Town High and doctor their records. I didn't worry about the FBI tracking me through the school system. They appeared to be mainly paper based here. My laptop was a junky twelve year old thing. The office computers weren't even flat screens. There was no central school database I was pretty certain. And whilst slightly better resourced, Midtown High wasn't much better. Maybe I could get Peter to help… nah. This already seemed overly complicated. It would be best to be a solo mission. Knew how to get in and out of my old school. I knew where the offices were.

I put it on my growing to do list. Find a proper place to live and get a source of money for food, clothes and school. Find Krystal and expose Senator Stern, the FBI and whoever else was behind me. Avoid SHEILD. Be convincing as the average school girl Jess Drew, establish myself and keep a low profile at school whilst getting educated. Figure out who I was. Patrol and fight crime.

A place to live. Hmmm I should keep an eye out for empty apartments. Squatting seemed to work… but making money…

I heard laughing and voices approaching. "Well, well, well, look what we have here. I told you I saw her up here…." I looked up to see eight Mo Money gang members - Julio Hernandez with his brow piercing, Emile Jackson with his poor attempt at a Hipster beard and Mathew Crozier with his stupid backwards baseball cap. MC. Surprisingly the scar faced mugger from last night was there too. They had four other friends. This must be the crew they warned me about. I shouldn't have admired the view. That must be how they spotted me. "This is our roof. Can't you read the sign on the door?"

"Hey guys. Sorry. I didn't know. I'm new here. Don't mind me. I'm heading to my next class. It won't happen again," I said casually.

"We have unfinished business." MC growled. "Our clothes, gun and drugs?"

"Yeah. Again, sorry boys. I binned them after our last little party. I did you a favour. If the cops arrested you with the gun and drugs you would have been in serious trouble…" I said as I moved to go around them.

"You binned them? That's disrespectful…" MC growled darkly.

"You seemed intent on raping me. That's disrespectful. You got off light. You get three strikes…" I noted darkly.

"You can't beat eight of us," Julio threatened as they spread out to block my escape. "We never got to have our little party. Not so cocky now, are you?"

I sighed. I could beat eight of them. The thing was, I wanted a normal life. I needed to blend in. I wasn't Peter Parker with a family and friends to protect. But I wanted friends. "I don't party…" I said. So instead of fighting I ran, trying to get around them. They all moved to block me. Which was what I expected.

"Stop her!" Emile yelled.

"Grab the little cow!" MC snarled.

"Again you're calling me a cow. That's not nice," I observed.

Using my wall crawl grip I stopped and changed direction on a dime, dropping under MC's grasping hands. I spun and dodged another and then a third. It was too easy. These guys didn't even know how to fight. In moments I was at the door to the stairs down from the roof. It was a solid steel thing, the lock disabled with gaffer tape, a clear Mo Money tag on the inside of it. I removed the gaffer tape and dropped it on the ground with a little flourish. Their eyes widened. "Stop her before she locks the security door!" Scar Face ordered. I didn't completely close the door - I held it open a sliver so the lock didn't engage. They saw and battered against it but my strength was far superior and they couldn't move it.

"That's twice you've threatened to rape me. That's not cool, to say the least. Your second strike. Look guys, this is your last chance. I just want to go to school. How about we call it a truce." I suggested.

"Go to hell!" MC snapped.

"Fine. Should I just close this door and leave you guys locked up here then? I figure you'll be up here all day and will probably get in trouble when you are rescued…" I reasoned as they pounded uselessly on the slightly ajar steel door. They tried to wedge their fingers in but the gap was too tight. The school bell rang signaling the end of morning break. "Your choice. Hurry up. I have to get to class."

"Let us out." MC said.

"Your word as members of Mo Money. All of you." I asked. "All I'm asking for is respect."

"Go to hell!"

I waited.

They argued for a minute. Finally they seemed to agree.

"Okay. Okay. We're cool. Truce. Open the door." MC said. I waited till I heard words of assent from all of them.

I opened the door and stood there, regarding them calmly. The eight gang members stared at me, shocked that I hadn't run. I wasn't acting like they expected. I wasn't scared or aggressive. Or antagonistic. They didn't seem to get it and it threw them off balance.

"Damn. You got some cajones there girl…" MC approached and held up a finger in my face. I regarded him coolly, eyes narrowed as I faced him. I think he saw something in my eyes. He knew I wasn't a victim. Wasn't intimidated. He nodded. Then he went to slap me. I easily grabbed his wrist, his hand inches from my face.

"I'm not feeling the respect," I noted evenly. He tried to pull his hand away. I held it firm. "It's a two way street. I will respect you if you respect me." I gave him a hint of my actual strength, squeezing a little, cocking one eye brow in question. His eyes widened and he grunted assent. I exhaled and let go. He rubbed his bruised wrist. "Cool. I gotta get to class." I turned and headed down the stairs. Hopefully that was the end of this stupidity.

I bumped into Michelle on the next flight. She regarded me blandly as she started to walk down with me. "Your first day going ok Drew?"

"Yeah. Mo Money. They don't like anyone else going up on the roof. I told them I was sorry and it wouldn't happen again." I said glibly.

"Uh huh." She responded unconvinced.

"I gotta get to chemistry." I said. "Room 312"

"Yeah. Me too. I'll walk with you. Come on. We're running late." She said. "It's funny. I didn't see you go up onto the roof."

I frowned. "Uh. Must have got there before you arrived."

She smiled blandly at my explanation. "Must have… how else could you have gotten up there?"

Had Michele seen? No my spider sense would have warned me. This girl made me nervous. Yeah today wasn't going well.

Noon came around so l walked through the bustling locker lined corridors to the school office to drop off paperwork and meet my new guide.

Michelle was sitting on a bench seat reading a tattered copy of Sylvia Plath's collected poems. She looked up and a lopsided, world wise smile twisted her lips. "Hey Jessica. I'm your buddy," she said as she put her book away in her backpack.

"It's Jess…" I corrected her absently. "You're my buddy? Why aren't I surprised?" I asked as Michelle stood and took the transfer papers I'd prepared for the office. She looked them over.

"… Midtown High … huh, homeless … sorry." She looked up. "I'm here for extra credit. Plus showing the new inmates in this institution around has its rewards." She passed the papers over to the lady in the office.

"Yeah." I agreed without much enthusiasm - I'd wanted to keep both those things quiet. Her choice of words was kinda odd. "Institution?" I asked curiously.

"Everyone is institutionalized nowadays. It's a big social experiment reinforced by laws. You know. Prison, psych wards, pre-school, schools, they all try to make sure the inmates are turned into right thinking cogs in the machine. This place is just one big cookie cutter." She explained sardonically.

I could see she was joking… I think. "Uh. Right. So why don't you home school." I asked perplexed.

She snorted derisively. "Yeah right. Those people are completely maladjusted," she observed. "And my dad teaches here which is pretty close to being homeschooled making me partly maladjusted." Her logic was all over the place.

"I can see that," I agreed.

She laughed infectiously. "Well, what do you want to see first? Let me guess…" she tapped her lips in thought. "The library? Yeah. You look like a pasty library dweller. I mean you got sun burnt at morning break…" She observed.

I frowned. True, I didn't have a tan. In fact I'd almost never been outside. Peter Parker had but me, Jessica Drew, hadn't. Today was the first day this body of mine had been touched by the sun. Had I got sun burned? I looked at my reflection in the window. I was a little red. Well. I hadn't expected that but it made sense. "The library is a good place to start I guess." We started to walk. "What's Sylvia Plath like?" I asked as we walked.

"Dark. Doomed. Enigmatic. I like her." She summarised.

I nodded. "So drama…?"she showed me the drama school as we walked. I shook my head. "Chess club?" A room full of nerds. I shook my head even though I figured I'd be at home there. "Dungeons and dragons club?" Another no shake of my head to a room full of different nerds. Again I could go there but decided not to. "Cheerleading?" I shook my head no with mild fear. I could do that easily but … not in this life. "That's a relief. I do debating. That's my thing."

"You like to argue?" I asked, unsurprised.

"I like to think." She responded as we headed into the library. This place felt like my kind of refuge. "So Jess, why are you homeless?" She asked.

"I'd prefer not to talk about it," I said.

"Hmmm. I do this buddy stuff to figure people out. Observe people and see who they are before they start to conform to this place. This institution. All people are different… but you're a new kind of different, aren't you Jess?" She said.

"What? Um… No Michelle. I'm just… new here." I responded on the defensive.

Michelle laughed and gave me that crooked thoughtful smile that made me feel like I had food stuck in my teeth. I wanted to check to see if my costume was showing or something but I just shrugged. "I'm just messing with you. Come on. I'll show you the computer room…"

"Cool," I responded.

I felt a sudden strong tingle of my spider sense and became instantly alert. It passed immediately but I still looked about warily.

"What's wrong?" Lyfe asked.

"I'm not sure. Just a bad feeling," I told him, shaking it off. Whatever it was was gone now.

It was past ten and we'd been working by a lone security light in the alley. I'd finished school, done my homework in the library and gone to grab some dinner at the shelter where I'd met Lyfe. We'd decided to come here and finish his mural. I put down my spray can and took a step back, admiring my work. Vandalism was a crime but I thought this was better than a blank wall. And this was art.

"Good work… You don't do tags or write over another's mural or piece. It's street etiquette. Anyone who disrespects a piece gets all their tags erased or crossed out at best. It gets pretty aggressive sometimes, and Astoria has some gangs … you know Mo Money, but there are Cheese Block and Dime Block – those gangs you don't want paying attention to you. The trick is to get to a blank wall first. Personally I don't care for tags. I Ike art…" he was filling me in on the local street art scene.

I grunted as I focused with the can. I thought that my part of the mural was just alright. The proportions were pretty accurate and the colours complimentary. But it just lacked something.

"The devil is in the detail." Lyfe observed critically. He picked up a black spray can and worked on the outlines, changing the weighting. Then he grabbed another can and worked on some colour transitions. "Murals are viewed from a distance so fine detail is only used minimally. Look at newspapers - old ones if you can and see how the grainy images come into focus from a distance. Move in. Move out. What we paint and what we see are not the same. You need to have both in mind as you work…"

There was a part of the wall he let me play around on, giving me pointers, and I'd done a small, crude clone vat, glass tubed and full of oozing pink toxic waste. I'd worked on it in drawing class and my lunch break after Michelle's tour. Simple image. Lots of layering with colours and then fine work over the top. My motor skills… well I had some physical advantages and… I don't know, something clicked when I did this. It seemed I had this new knack. It was exciting. I'd always been mediocre in art. But this I felt natural doing. It was cathartic as well and I really needed that right now.

Lyfe had painted the tubes and wires coming from my crude vat and transformed them gradually into vines and roots and branches that entwined his original image. It was grand and colourful, a techno organic image that could be either life affirming or a perversion of nature depending on your perspective. His work was head and shoulders above my crude ugly spray painting but I was understanding how he worked. He lay down base colours often used cardboard masks to get crisp lines and provide the final detail.

I started to think about using my webs for a similar purpose. I was pretty accurate with them and was confident I could spin them in lines or curves of varying thicknesses. Lay down a base colour. Let dry. Mask with webbing. Paint over. Web dissolves. Instant stencil art. Kinda. I just needed an image to work from…

Working close to the ground was easiest for Lyfe. He said had some ladders in his car for high work but that was time consuming. As a result he worked low down. Close to the footpath. I figured with my abilities height wouldn't be a problem - if I was working solo.

Lyfe signed it 'Lyfe'. "Put your tag on it Phase." He said.

I shook my head. "No. This is yours. I..." I hesitated. With what I had planned I didn't want any links to Lyfe. Or Roger as I'd now found out his name was.

Lyfe shrugged. "I don't mind. But suit yourself." He yawned. "I'm calling it a night. If you don't have a place you can crash in my car," he suggested as he started to put away his paints.

I sighed, a weight in my stomach, unsure how much to tell him. This was confusing for me. But I liked Roger.. "Lyfe. I've been through some pretty horrible stuff over the last month. It's why I'm on the street. Trying to deal with it is all I can handle right now. And I sure as hell don't want to drag you into it. It's just… I'm not in any state for a relationship, with a guy… or a girl. Now or possibly ever. What I really need is a friend."

"Ooh," Lyfe said and laughed warmly. "That's not what I meant. You can't friend zone me cause I friend zoned you already," he grinned. "You're not my type unless I missed something. Girls just don't do it for me, Jess. It was an honest no strings attached offer. Just friends."

I facepalmed and blushed. I was selling tickets on myself. I clearly didn't know how to pick up on signals. "Oh. Man. Sorry. I'm new to all this." I motioned at the world.

"Don't worry about it. I don't. Trust me, there are too many small minded people out there worrying for us." He confided. "I've seen enough on the streets to know that people don't end up here by choice. A lot of kids have parents that don't understand… You… you're a great girl. Funny. Smart. Artistic. And even I can see you're very attractive." He grinned and winked. "You'll make a lucky guy or girl happy I'm sure. But friends."

"Yeah. Totes." I responded feeling relieved and pleased. With that off the table I felt myself relaxing. This was great. Hang on. I was attractive? I was very attractive?! I'd… I mean… I rolled my eyes.

Lyfe laughed. "I can deal with that. So I think we're done here. You want to grab a coffee and tell me about your folks and why you left them. We can share stories and figure out whose are worse."

I grinned humourlessly. From a certain perspective my 'folks' were the FBI super assassin program and Doc OcK. You could say I had some parental issues. "Prepare to be defeated…"He smiled but there was no amusement there. I suddenly sensed that I might not have a monopoly on bad luck. "Or perhaps we can talk about our next mural." I suggested hopefully

"Awesomesauce. You're on."

We went down into the subway and waited for a train. As we sat on the deserted platform my spider sense spiked for a second then subsided. I looked around, alarmed but there was nothing around to suggest a threat. The train rattled into the station, pretty much empty, and we jumped on. I frowned and looked about suspiciously.

"What's up Jess? You're looking spooked?" Lyfe asked.

"It's nothing… just… something walked over my grave…" I explained vaguely.

"Oh," he stretched out in his seat and rested his feet on the seat opposite. I stayed standing warily.

"I'm three stops away. There's a cheap all night café near the station and it's a short walk to my car." He explained.

As the train trundled along in and out of the next two stations my spider sense started to tingle ever so slightly. I looked around nervously trying to place the danger. Again, nothing seemed out of place and there was no real immediacy to the danger. I just couldn't put my finger on it. It wasn't like anything I'd sensed before. "Hmm. I'm getting tired. Can I pass on that brainstorm."

Lyfe shrugged. "Yeah. I'm kinda beat anyways as well." The train started to pull up to his stop. "You right to get to your digs? You can crash in my car if you want. It's tight but there is room."

"Nah. I have a stray cat I need to feed." I responded. The half lie still made me feel bad.

"Ok. See you later." He said as he disembarked with a fist bump.

"In a while," I responded as I returned the bump.

I watched Lyfe go, my sense of danger steadily growing, the empty subway train pulling away and accelerating through the dark tunnel. The platforms on this subway line were on either side of the tracks, not in the middle and I started to consider how to best exit this train given how my spider sense was acting. All by my lonesome. Not another soul on the train. That was ominous.

I tried to pinpoint my sense of unease. It was hard. I moved my head and frowned. It was coming from somewhere below me. "What the…?" The sensation was near my upper left leg. I leant down. Not near my left leg. From my left leg. The upper thigh. I prodded. Right near my femoral artery. "Huh?" The train decelerated into the train station and my spider sense kicked in properly.

"Oh crap!" I was moving as the machine gun fire tore through the train windows, shattering glass and tearing the upholstery seat I had just vacated to shreds. I twisted and dodged as bullets buzzed about me. Wind buffeted as safety glass was blown in by the cool night air. The lights flickered and died. I stayed low, out of sight as the train started to slow coming into the station proper. They were waiting for me? Then six grenades sailed through the gaping windows. Yep. Waiting for me.

Spider sense buzzing intensely I immediately web lined to a support column on the other platform as it sped by, swinging out sideways from the shattered train window towards the other train tracks "Please let there be no twin going the other direction." I muttered as my web stretched tight and I shot out the window and kicked my legs to increase speed as the path of my horizontally arcing web line intersected a column between the two train tracks. The radius of my arc was decreased, accelerating me, and I found myself headed in the opposite direction to the train on the far platform. I pulled hard on the web to further increase my speed, narrowly missing a coke vending machine and support column. I let go of my web line to avoid swinging back into my vacated train.

The grenades exploded loudly filling the underground station with debris, the metal flying all about me as I again twisted nimbly and the shrapnel missed narrowly. I think being slimmer and less muscular made me more nimble. My newfound agility was definitely saving my bacon so I was a reverberating cocophony was the worst part. In the close confines it made my teeth ache, the mind numbing explosion and horrible rending and tearing of metal like fingers down a chalk board.

I skidded along the platform using my wall crawling fingertips and feet to arrest my velocity. I stared at my assailants. They wore FBI tactical gear clearly identifying them. "You guys aren't very good at this…" I observed as I threw my arms akimbo, webs shooting from my fingers into the chests of the two agents. Bullets traced along the floor towards me as I pulled them together and jumped upwards to give my pull extra strength. Superhero occupational health and safety tip, when beating on bad guys lift with your legs.

As I ascended I half flipped to crouch on the ceiling. The two webbed thugs hit one another with bone jarring force. A flick of my wrists and the pair were lassoed together with my web and an easy tug had them dangling in the air. The smoke was thickening along the roof as I tied off my web end on a ceiling fire extinguisher pipe. "So how are you-" The fire extinguishers and alarms chose that moment to go off and I got a fateful or stagnant water. "My clothes!" I cried as I got the heck out of there, other agents shoot at me through blinding water, smoke and half working lighting.

Somehow I knew there was something under my skin that they were using to track me. I had to get it out. It looked like they'd put it on my femoral artery though. I couldn't just cut it out with a knife myself. I'd likely kill myself. Which was why they put it there.

Who could cut the tracker out? The X-Men? No I didn't want to go there. What if I ran into Kitty? Maybe Dr Strange? I think he was a doctor in name only. SHEILD? No. That was a terrible idea. I would end up in a cage. Maybe… Reed Richards?

Would Reed help? I thought he might. He was the best of a bad lot of choices. Getting to the Baxter Building was easy. Just a whole pile of swinging. Fortunately the FBI didn't have aerial tactical units. They weren't SHEILD. I climbed up to the top and after climbing around for a bit I spotted what looked like Reed Richards. Did he never sleep? I knocked on the window.

Reed looked up from his research curiously. He rubbed his chin reached to the window control with a stretch of his body to open it. I entered. "You know we have a front door… but I guess it's closed." He looked at his watch and grunted. "You're lucky I turned off the security systems.. So. You're one of the Parker clones right. From last night."

"Yeah. Jessica. Jessica Drew. I'm really sorry to interrupt you Doctor Richards but I'm in a bit of a pickle." I said.

"A pickle?" He asked.

"Yeah. I'm being hunted. By the FBI. They have a tracker in my leg." I explained.

"How do you know that?" He asked as he motioned me into a room with some really complex looking medical scanners.

"My… I have what I call my spider sense. It warns me of danger. And it's coming from here." I pointed at my femoral artery. "I got ambushed by a squad of FBI agents sent to kill me. It's pretty bad. I'm worried they might kill a bystander. Or me."

"Right then, lie down and take off your pants and jumpsuit. It's a onesy right?." I nodded as

I removed my clothes and climbed up onto the examination table in my stolen underwear. "I'm glad you came. I must admit I have a scientific curiosity about what they did to you. Ethically it's reprehensible but the genetic implications are astounding."

"Yeah," I grumbled as I lay down."The Astounding Spider-Woman. That's me."

He started a full biological scan and took a blood sample with my nodding consent. "You're correct. Some kind of electronic tracker, momentum powered, grafted about your femoral artery. If any standard medical practitioner sought to remove it you'd undoubtedly bleed out. But I think I can… oh wait. There is also a remotely detonated explosive. Small but lethal. They could have killed you anytime they wanted. They were likely trying to capture their investment." He pressed a button and a faraday cage was deployed about the table I lay on and most of the room. "That should block any signal and address the remote detonation issue. Now then… let's see…" he found a cylinder and filled a syringe with the contents then injected it into my leg. "Nanites. They'll sort that out." He said. "This is will be quite painful… I'm going to sedate you."

"Wait. I-"

I sat bolt upright. Reed Richards working on a nearby monitor and it looked like he'd been doing a lot of tests based on the extent of data he was revising. My data… he was in different clothes. I lay under a blanket. I'd slept… and I hadn't dreamed Peters walking life or dreams for the second night in a row. I stretched and yawned loudly. "How long was I out for?" I asked.

"About twelve hours. I only got all the test results back just then." Reed looked my scans over closely. "Hmmm, what's this scar on your abdomen from?" Reed asked. "It's strange."

I grimaced at the memory. "Hysterectomy." I said. I didn't know how I felt about that.

"Really? Because… well either they are terrible surgeons… or…" he reviewed the scans of that the area. It all looked very much intact. God that was weird to see those images and know that was me. "No. Your Fallopian tubes and womb are intact. The work was clearly to access an ovary... hmmm they were harvesting eggs. Yes. Definitely. Quite a lot I'd say. Over five hundred thousand. Not so many that you'd ever notice but…"

I lay there shocked. I didn't know how to take that news . "So… oh god… what would they want those for?"

"To test? Or perhaps… fertilise. If they were trying to make super soldiers and cloning failed then en vitro might be an option…" he suggested. "Your genetics are quite incredible. You're a 99.6 percent match for the original Peter Parker. Oddly you're lacking some unusual trace biologicals that were present in both Peter Parker on the other clone I saw."

"The symbiote," I said with understanding. "It linked us all together. I ran into it shortly after I escaped and it… did something to me. I think it absorbed itself back and severed the link… the mental link I had with my original was severed."

"Symbiote?" Reed asked.

"Yeah. You remember that crazy red thing from the other night. Not the fury one. The icky slimy amoeba like thing. My father, Richard Parker, and his partner Eddie Brock senior did most of the work on it. Curt Connors and Ben Reilly played around with their work… there is some link between the symbiote and the cloning process I think… we aren't just physical clones. We're mental clones…"

"That's… disturbing. The traces biologicals are … unlike anything I've seen. They don't act like they should." Reed shuddered then considered my last words and gasped. "My god. That means-"

"I'm not just a girl." I stated with a grimace. "I'm Peter Parker." It was painful to admit.

Sensing my pain Reed went back to his work at the scanner. "Right… I'm not seeing junk DNA on either you or Peter. That in itself makes you both unique. It's safe to say that your offspring would be quite… unique." Something beeped. "Ah. I forgot. Peter Parker is bringing Mary Jane Watson in for a check up to make sure there are no side effects from the Oz serum."

"What! They're both coming here? They can't know I'm here." I said as I stood.

"Why not?" He asked in confusion.

"It's complicated. I promised I'd keep my distance from Pete - and Mary Jane doesn't know about all this." I motioned at my body. "I really don't need her involved. Being given Oz by a crazy clone has to have been traumatic enough. She will flip out if she knew about me." I said as I struggled back into my costume and clothes. I'd freak out if I saw him with her too. That would be too painful by far.

"Well you can't go. I'm not finished and you can't leave the faraday cage. I'll deal with her check-up and then I'll finish with you." He walked to the edge of the cage and a new cage formed, creating two cages, a small one for him and a large one for me. Then his cage disappeared.

"Wow. That's some fancy tech." I muttered. I sat down to wait. About a quarter hour later there was a noise and the door opened.

The large, orange rock armoured form of Ben Grimm, the Thing, entered the lab. He clutched a bag of takeout and opened the fridge to grab a few beers. He popped one of the beers with his finger. "Huh. I know you." Ben said, voice deep and gravelly. He looked about, pulled out a seat then took a bite of his burger. "You're one of them clones right?"

"Yeah. You're one of them Fantastic Four right?" I stated inanely.

The guy grinned, rock moving about heavily. "Yep." He chewed. "Reed told me to keep you company. He didn't want you rushing off and getting killed. His words." We sat in silence.

"Hey, do you mind if I ask a question." I started. God he was freakishly big. Poor guy.

"No. But that was you question." He said with I grin.

I rolled my eyes. "How do you cope with it?" I asked.

"What?" He said and took another bite.

"Looking down at your body and seeing something unfamiliar. I ask cause I'm going through my own freaky Friday. I'm not who I used to be." I said.

"You're comparing your cute body with my… condition." He asked darkly.

"Cute? Hardly. Especially since in my mind I'm a guy."

"Really? Oh. I can see how that might be difficult. So you think you're a guy in a girl's body. Reed says you're about a month old… I don't understand." He continued eating. I eyed the burger enviously.

"Well. Yeah. You see… I'm a mental clone of Peter Parker. So I have fifteen years of boyhood memories. Two girlfriends… when I look down I see something that shouldn't be." I responded. "It might not seem as bad as what you have to deal with… but let me tell you… when I look in the mirror I don't see myself. I see a thing too." I muttered. "You know, um, forget I asked."

The Thing reached into his paper takeout bag and pulled out two more burgers and pushed one of them to me. The faraday cage let it in by enclosing it then unenclosing it inside. He unwrapped his burger and took a bite. I did the same gratefully. "Ok. I can see how that might be a problem. Jeez. If I woke up a girl I'd… well I don't know what I'd do." He grinned and I got the distinct impression he knew exactly what he'd do. He shrugged then looked off into the distance, thinking. "I can see how it might be hard." He took out another burger and pushed it into his mouth like it was a cookie. "Listen kid. I don't have any real answers. I've got a pretty thick skin so I try to not let it get to me. No joke intended. But I still feel and it still hurts even though I'm pretty invulnerable. I see people look at me. Judge me. I have to get my clothes custom made. Kids cry when they see me. Hells bells. I look in the mirror and I see a monster. Something not human. So yeah. It's not easy. But life ain't meant to be easy. Finding love, well that might never happen. Certainly not like other people." He took out another burger and popped it in his mouth, chewing noisily. "But… Being seen for who you are inside, well you hope that'll happen. With those you love and care about - it does. But, yeah, sometimes it doesn't." He shrugs and I think of tectonic plates moving. "But I've seen what people say about Spider-Man and all the bad press he gets. You rose above it all before and you will continue to do so." He got out another burger. "You gotta find the silver lining to things. I get to go places, see things, do stuff that other people only dream about. I've saved the earth. A coupla times. Had some grand adventures. So… that's how I deal with it." He looked me over. "I have my team. They're my family. I love 'em. Even if some of 'em don't really understand," he finished his burger. "But nothings perfect."

"Yeah. I know what you mean." I empathised. I think Ben was my favourite member of the Fantastic Four now. I'd always admired Reed Richards and Sue Storm for their smarts but Ben was a real straight guy. Beneath that hard exterior was such a decent person.

We shared a silent moment as we considered the hand that fate had dealt us. It wasn't the worst. We were alive and had powers and opportunities that most would die for.

"That's you and me kid. Thing one and thing two." He grinned. "You ever feel like chatting about what's botherin' you I'm here. But next time you get to shout the food."

"Deal Ben." I agreed. I decided to change the subject.. "So how's Johnny going? Is he at school?"

"He's homeschooling." He grinned. "And let me tell you girl, he's a nice enough lad but… not really boyfriend material." Ben said.

"Oh, no. He's not my type."I said blushing.

"I figured." Ben laughed. A deep rumbling and I sensed he was making fun of me. "He thinks he's everyone's type…" Ben chuckled. "Boys will be boys."

I laughed. "Mostly…" I finished my burger. "That's a tasty burger..."

Ben sighed. "So. That's Pete Parker and his girlfriend in the other room?" Ben asked. They're boyfriend and girlfriend again? Must have been because of the kidnapping and the Oz and all the crazy. But… what about Kitty? I nodded slowly. He whistled. "So she was your girlfriend?" He asked.

I made a sour expression. "It's complicated." I said. "I'm my own person now. We don't share memories from now on. In fact to me she is still the ex. Getting back with her… well it's a bad idea in my opinion. I love her though… it's a mess. Like crazy mad. But there is this other girl Pete was dating. Kitty Pryde. For some reason from what you say Pete seems to have broken up with her, but… I like her and if Pete is with MJ." I shrugged."It's a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world… so messy."

"Teen romances usually are." He chuckled. "I'll let you in on a secret kid. It never changes. You'd think you grow up and get wise, but it never happens. You always make mistakes," he sounded almost wistful. "Love is messy. The stronger the love, the bigger the potential train wreck…"

"Yeah." I thought about Kitty. I imagined the look of loss and hurt on her face when she found out that Peter got back with MJ. I didn't want to see Pete and MJ. Thinking about them made me angry and jealous and sad. And I had no right to be angry. "Train wreck is the term for it." I agreed. I shook off the thoughts.

"I'd offer you a beer but it is way too early and you're underage," Ben said.

"Yeah. Being a month old I'll have to wait decades huh?" I joked. We sat in silence for a moment.. "I've been meaning to ask. Who do you guys use to manage your image. You know, copyright your likenesses and merchandising."

"We have an agent that does all our merchandising and endorsements. He's pretty mercenary and I find it all a bit much. But you want that sometimes… you can make good money off it if you can stomach it. We also have good legal representation. Holland, Fry and Associates. Why…?" Ben asked.

"You know that Spider-Man movie. It grossed almost a billion dollars and I… Peter Parker didn't see a single cent. I don't want to have that happen again." I said.

Ben whistled. "Damn. That's rough. So how are you going to make money with a secret identity?" He asked.

"Oh, I have that totally covered. The government gave me four identities. I figure I'll burn one of them to own Spider-Woman. No one is owning me." I stated firmly.

Ben grinned. "Good for you."

"Yeah… "

Reed returned. "All done..." He pushed a control button and the faraday cage disappeared up into the ceiling.

"I'll leave you egg heads to it." Ben laid a reassuring hand my shoulder and winked at me. "Take care thing two."

"Thanks Ben." I said.

Issue 12: Dawning of Dusk

“Wait - don’t go! I need you! Please stay! Don’t leave me!” Spider-Man pleaded. “I’ll be so empty without you!”

“You only want me for my body!” I said in revulsion.

“Not true… I want you for your brains too!” Spider-Man cried plaintively. That’s just what every girl wants to hear, isn’t it?! Except I’m only technically a girl and Spider-Man’s designs on my were less carnal and more gastronomic. Voraphilia? Uh uh. No way. No.

How did it come to this I hear you ask? Well true believers. Let me tell you… 

Two hours ago…

As soon as I’d arrived here I’d figured it was the wrong place - but by then it was too late to go back. I facepalmed, realising that this was the place Reed had warned me of. The piles of gnawed human bones were a dead giveaway… Dammit I’d mixed up the numbers. Worst butt dial ever… 

I crawled through the upper floors of the fire gutted skyscraper, the stark ruins of this Baxter Building ominous and grim. Familiar yet eerily wrong. The stench was horrible and I was glad for the filters in my mask. It was night and I nervously swung out onto the smashed upper structure to get the lay of the land. Utter ruin and desolation as far as the eye could see. In the distance I could see a few flying heroes but they looked wrong. Some were missing limbs and there was on with only half a body. Apart from them the city was a lifeless charnel house. 

I went back into the ruins of the Baxter Building, wracking my brain. This was the worst. How could I survive here?! I had too. It was that simple. I went hunting for supplies, scavenging a Hello Kitty back pack with some sneakers and clean exercise gear that looked to fit me. I set about filling my bag with whatever high energy food I could find. Food was in short supply, looters must have gotten it weeks ago. There was lots of compact advanced technology scattered about that looked useful though. A tablet, a few satellite phones, a hard drive and other things that I grabbed in passing. Unfortunately there was no power - and no interdimensional inverter. I was in serious trouble. 

Then I found a life saver. In a ransacked high security storage area I found an impact resistant steel container beneath a half eaten corpse. I gingerly moved the remains and wiped down the metal box. So gross. The unit was marked ‘negative zone samples’. The name summed up my life and for some reason it piqued my interest. It took all my strength but I ripped the storage unit open. Inside was a number of strange rocks and bits of technology, including an utterly black costume. Like it didn’t reflect light at all. Impossible. But I was drawn to it. 

I read a small inventory printout summary attached to the suit. It was alien tech that allowed shadow leaping, shadow blending and limited flight. Yeah that sounded useful! I quickly shed my clothes and put it on. I marveled at how the cloth shrunk skin tight to my body. I packed my clothes and spider costume in the backpack then moved stealthily through the shadowed darkness, a part of it. Yeah. This was useful. I felt oddly lighter in it. 

I’d been about to leave the Baxter Building when the Reed from my universe contacted me by projecting a hologram. The Reed from my universe! Thank god! “Jessica. We, the other Reed and I, are working on a gate. Be ready in exactly an hour where you first arrived. Don’t get bitten or … well it would be very bad for you…”

“Good advice,” I agreed as I looked up at the glowing hologram. When I say up I mean up… Sadly Reed hadn’t been subtle – presumably because he didn’t know if I was still where I’d arrived. Yeah, unfortunately he’d contacted me with a ten storey hologram that hung high over the city. He’d basically rung the dinner bell advertising an all you can eat zombie buffet with me as the main dish. The remaining zombies were ravenous and they converged upon the Baxter Building, ready for a feast. 

I watched from the shadows as they flew toward the building. Flew… how were they flying!? They all glowed with some cosmic energy. Wolverine sniffing the air like a rabid hunting dog. The Hulk, pure blind rage and hunger looking about with a baleful apish intensity. The nightmarish top half of Iron Man – somewhere along the way he’d lost his legs, his spine dangling out of the chest plate of his gore stained armour … Spider-Man missing the lower part of one leg and his mask bare to reveal a jagged skeleton jaw. Giant Man, a huge behemoth of horrid rotting flesh. Luke Cage, vile undead thing… their costumes and ages differed but I knew them.

I think the scariest part of them was their teeth. No lips, just huge vermicious teeth that glistened in the darkness … and they wept and wailed and gnashed their teeth as they hunted me… none wanting to share their next meal… they weren’t human anymore. Not even close.

I avoided Wolverine from the start, intuiting he would be the hardest to escape once he got my scent. Assuming he could still smell… I bounded about the Baxter Building, creating as many false scent trails as I could before fleeing out into the city. I’d been Wolverine once – long story – and I knew how acute his tracking sense was.

I played cat and mouse with my rotten new friends in the desolate city for a nail biting hour. I quickly figured out how the black costume worked. It allowed me to glide and move between shadows with a very limited teleportation. And in this abandoned metropolis there was an abundance of darkness. Like I said, a life saver! 

I had a near miss as I rounded a corner high above ground and nearly swung into a flying Iron Man. “Hi Tony…” We stared at each other for a moment. 

“Who are you?” His eyes were cloudy yellow puss filled glaucoma’s and his thick black purplish tongue darted out and licked his teeth lasciviously. “It doesn’t matter. You’re Elevenses to me…”

“Really? You sure know how to make a girl feel wanted.” I shot webbing at his helmet, blinding him. “No witty banter, no conversation, no meeting of minds just straight to what you want. You didn’t even stop to think what I want. Honestly, you should stop objectifying women. I mean look at yourself. You’re way past your prime and you’ve really let yourself go… you can forget any below the belt action from here on… and that egocentric playboy approach may have worked before the apocalypse but times have changed… you need to respect a girl in this new era… make her feel like an equal. Wine and dine her…” What was I rambling on about?

“Argh! I will dine on you! You’re nothing but a tasty little morsel to me…”

I shuddered as I nimbly dropped into shadows and teleported away and he fired and howled in frustrated ire.

I kept Stark behind me and it was a near thing with the Hulk a moment later, the jolly green monster launching impossibly fast at me through an explosion of building materials, swatting at me as I twisted and spun into more shadows. “Get In Hulks belly!!” He snarled. Without the premonition of my spider sense he would have had me. “Hulk Hungry!”

“Hulk need balanced diet. Hulk must go eat vegetables!” I moved away, leaping from one shadowed ruin to the next. His roar was like thunder as he raged at my escape. In a violent tantrum he utterly destroyed three city blocks as I got the hell out of there.

I teleported into a hospital wing, dead bodies everywhere. There was a disturbing snikt sound and an animal growl as Wolverine flew madly at me through the tattered curtains in the ICU. 

Again my spider sense saved me and I dodged the swiping claws of the zombie mutant.  
“I’m the best at what I do Bub and what I do ain’t nice…” he snarled.

“Wolverine. I do appreciate you calling me Bub. More than you’d know.” I reparteed. “And if what you do now is rot and stink then yes, I agree you’re the best and, yeah, you’re absolutely right, it isn’t nice… but between you and me, I wouldn’t go bragging about it…”

“You smell like Parker but you’re a girl… what are you?” He snarled as he lunged with his one good arm leading. I dodged and he landed on a gurney that went rolling away from me.

“Better…” I evaded. Not who… what… that hurt a little.

Unfortunately Giant Man was there too, anticipating my dodge, grabbing me through a gaping window, my spider sense alerting me too late! “Hey… giant man… can you shrink down to the size of a fly? You know. A cute, teeny-weeny, itsy-bitsy housefly? I’d go much further like that… you know, nom nom?” I suggested hopefully as his dirty big hands wrapped about me. I could swat a fly... “Maybe you could try being a BFG?” I asked hopefully. I was in serious trouble, his grip was too strong to break.

Wolverine lunged at me and Giant Man clutched me possessively. “She’s mine runt.” Thankfully his clutching hands left me in darkness and that allowed me to shadow leap away. I looked back to see him peering hopefully into his clutching fists, Wolverine pointing madly at me and firing cosmic blasts my way. I shadow teleported again.

I had barely gotten away before Luke Cage was chasing me, smashing his way through office partitions in some dead lawyers office as I evaded. “Sweet Christmas, you sure wriggle about a lot girl!” He said as we tousled, me dancing around him deftly as he swung power punches like crazy. I threw a hole punch at him and it exploded in a shower of confetti which he spat from his mouth. I grabbed a stapler and stapled him. Yeah. These were ineffectual office supplies. 

“Dude, I gotta know, what is it with the silver tiara? The matching metal wristbands, heavy chain belt, Robin Hood boots and flowing, low-cut yellow shirt work… they are completely macho. But seriously? A tiara? If you’re going for a village people circa 1970s disco look you want flares and platform boots. But a tiara… dude. No. Just no. What were you thinking? I mean it’s like you’re being dressed by a committee of middle aged white guys…” I asked. 

“Quiet fool. Your jokes are as bad as Spider-Man’s,” Luke snapped as he self consciously adjusted his tiara.

“I resemble that remark…” I agreed as I leaped to a building across the street. He started to fire away with some energy power. I moved away as quickly as I could, weaving erratically into buildings.

With the shadow leaping ability of my new suit dodging the moldering Wolverine, Spider-Man, Hulk, Giant Man, Iron Man and Luke Cage was possible. Barely. Like I said, they all had an interesting new power that scared the hell out of me. Some kind of cosmic energy that they started to use more and more indiscriminately to honeycomb any building I sought to refuge in. I realised they were getting desperate to catch me. If I was hit there would be less to eat but less was better than nothing in what remained of their hunger addled minds. Soon parts of the city were on fire, reducing the wealth of shadows into which I could flee. But it was a big city. 

After my hour of hide and seek I returned to where I’d arrived with Zombie Spider-Man hot on my tail. The other zombies were lurking around the Baxter Building, smart enough to know where I needed to be after my hours evasion, but it was a big building and they had no idea where I arrived, so teleporting to the rift had been terrifying but not impossible. True to his word Reed opened a gate where I arrived and I leaped through it to get the hell out of there. 

I appeared on the other side of the rift in Earth-1610. Well that’s what I hoped, it looked like my universe at least. My spider sense made me duck as Spider-Man’s webbing followed me through. In the distance I could hear the other zombies converging upon the shrinking rift, arguing and fighting like dogs over a bone. 

The undead Spider-Man had been the nimblest, the best at following me, but being a moldering corpse had slowed him down enough that I could evade him. If they’d been working together I would have been a zombie happy meal. I shuddered. 

That’s all I want to say on it. That place is going to give me nightmares for the rest of my life. Honest.

“I’m glad I got you. Just in time too it seems. How did you end up there?” Reed asked nervously. “That universe is doomed…”

“Misdial,” I explained from my small admantium cage, clutching my bag. Reed wasn’t taking any chances. “I thought you said we were from Earth-2149…” 

“Oh. Right. That explains it. We’re Earth 1610. I did mention the zombie universe to you… should figure out a way to block that one. But… Just stay right there. I need to make sure you aren’t infected,” Reed said as he activated defences and scanned me. 

“Thanks Doctor Richards.” I said is I lifted the shadow mask to show my face. The suit was so black! “But I’m zombie bite free. It was a close thing, they had cosmic powers or something but their hunger made them stupid. And this suit did the rest…” I said as I noticed big powerful guns training menacingly on me. “Honest. No bites. Not even a nibble.”

“Hmmm, yes, you’re clear thankfully … Interesting reflective properties to that costume…” he said. 

“Some kind of flight and shadow teleporting for short distances too,” I explained.

“Really. Very interesting.”

“Yeah. I found the suit and some other things in the zombie world’s Baxter Building. This came from the negative zone. It sure saved my bacon…” I laughed. 

“Ah, yes, I’ve been investigating the Negative zone… But I digress. I spoke to the other me from Earth-602636 and he helped me find you. Their earth is quite… quaint.” Richard’s observed.

“That other universe, um Earth-602636… it seemed like a teenage romance world. So weird. I’m amazed they reproduce at all…” I agreed. Although that second kiss from MJ had been rather more hotblooded than I’d expected. 

“Yes…” Reed smiled. “I have to ask though. What are your plans?” Reed enquired as he powered down the guns and opened my cage. 

I climbed out and shrugged. “Well, I’ve enrolled in high school. I’m looking for work and a place to live…” as said as I emptied out my bag and looked at the tech I’d salvaged from the other alternate Baxter Building. The tablet was crazy advanced and the satellite phones were next generation. Reed examined my finds and easily paired the devices all up with the Future Foundation’s satellite as I talked. “I doubt the FBI are done with me so… I’ll probably need to do something about them whilst keeping a low profile.” I watched him working. 

“Can you leave these here for me to look over?” Evidently some of the things I’d grabbed even he couldn’t easily figure out.

“Sure. I’ll keep the suit, the tablet, the phones and the are drive though if that’s ok…” I agreed.

“Yes. That’s fine… they should be useful. Hmm. We have an internship program and you seem exceptionally bright, but I don’t think this is a good place for you to lie low. We don’t want the FBI, SHIELD or someone else causing us problems. The attack the other night is all over the news. No one was arrested and the press is passing it off as a turf war between gangs. If it was the FBI and they are willing to attack you at a train station with automatic weapons and grenades then I wouldn’t put it past them to try something here. Sorry.” He apologised sadly as he passed me back my stuff.. 

“I need to lay low. I get it.” I put my haul away in the back pack. “Thanks for this by the way…” I grinned, excited by the possibilities of new tech. “But about the FBI. I heard the lead FBI agent Henry Gyrich talking to Senator Stern. Stern is a piece of work. Total slime.” I shuddered in revulsion at the memory of his designs on me. It made me sick. Reed noticed I think. “Still I’m not certain it was the FBI. It could be a military black ops team or even a mercenary team hired by someone to clean up this mess.” I paused, thinking about it. “The thing is, someone is kidnapping street kids to experiment on, I’m certain of it. There was this girl, Krystal...” I said. “And the equipment they were using to make me and the other clones was cutting edge. You can’t just buy that stuff off the rack.” I observed.

“Hmmm. I don’t think the FBI have the resources for this kind of research and as far as I know they don’t usually go in for black ops.” Reed said. “But Stern... he’s bad news. He chairs the House Committee of Superhuman Control that investigated Oscorp’s ‘alleged’ violations of the Superhuman Test Ban Treaty - and cleared them.” I nodded as Reed spoke. “The HCSC is of concern in itself. It’s an aggressive body and with Stern chairing it is generating an environment of Superhuman paranoia. Supers under the bed stuff straight out of the Cold War paranoia playbook.” He scowled. “If Stern is directly involved in the project that created you… and with HCSC under his control… I’ll need to look into this.”

“Wait, Stern is creating super soldiers whilst persecuting supers?” I asked, confused. “That makes no sense.”

“This superhero arms race is a cutthroat business. The profits are obscene and the ethics are questionable at best. The more Superhuman fear and havoc in society, the more profitable it gets. One side feeds the other. And there are a lot of companies and entities lined up at the trough… Oscorp, Hammer Industries, ROXXON and Mandarin International are the worst… But even Stark International, The Future Foundation and SHIELD have their fingers in the pie.”

“That many,” I worried. At least I had some names of companies to look into to hopefully find Krystal.

Reed waved a hand dismissively. “That’s the world we live in now.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” I sighed. “Well, that was my weekend. Funny. It was Saturday morning when I entered the gate, Tuesday afternoon when I arrived on the alternate romanceverse, Thursday morning there when I left for zombieworld and now it’s Sunday afternoon back here. Time moves differently in alternate realities doesn’t it?”

“The multiverse is a strange place. I wouldn’t dwell overmuch on the time differential Jessica. Just be glad you’re back.” He advised me.

“I won’t. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a school to break into and some academic records to falsify,” I said.

“I don’t want to know. Good luck Jessica.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “But wait just a moment…” he went to his computer and plugged in a USB, put some software on it then passed it to me “That should get you past any pesky passwords.”

“Thanks!” I pocketed the USB. “Um… actually… you couldn’t spot me a twenty could you?” I begged hopefully. Reed flipped out his wallet and gave me fifty dollars. “Oh thanks. You’re a superhero! Er… And is there a shower I can use before I go?” I’d not wanted to risk showering at alternate universe Peter’s house. That would have caused all kinds of problems if May found out… so after my weekend of being shot at by the FBI, chasing Eldritch Abominations and running from Zombies in a post apocalyptic wasteland I was pretty ripe. 

Reed rolled his eyes and nodded at the ladies room. 

“Thank you!” I went in, stripped with my normal amount of complete self consciousness and washed. The hot water was sublime and the shower head pumped out so much of it. I luxuriated under the constant spray in bliss, face up and eyes closed, water running down my body and washing away the dirt and grime and smells and memories. An entire dead and rotting world… I shuddered as I forced that memory down. It wasn’t real. Was just a possible fate we’d avoided here. A what if…? 

The same as MJ’s incredible kiss. No. That had been real. Intimately so… I blushed at the memory. She had liked me. Wanted me… female me. I smiled fondly and shook off that memory too.

Must. Shower! The shower cubicle even had scented soaps, shampoos and conditioners - and clean fluffy towels. Male me would have never have noticed most of this, but the new me? Heaven! I changed and stuffed my smelly shadow suit, spider suit and dirty clothes into my backpack. There was an odourless deodorant spray in my bag that I used. They had disposable toothbrushes and I used one and took it. I put on the clean gym gear. It was my size thank goodness and was a snug comfortable fit. They were as revealing as my spider costume but with me face uncovered I felt strangely more exposed in them. Damn this mane of hair. I still wasn’t used to drying my long hair and it made my gym top damp.

As I exited I stepped directly into Sue Storm. I blushed at the sudden contact of our bodies. She wasn’t much older than me but she seemed so mature. And I’d just been thinking about my kiss with MJ. The little bump was very pleasant and brought back all those memories. Soft yielding body pressing against soft yielding body. Just like I remembered. 

And to make it even more lurid she wore her Fantastic Four outfit. The one that clung tight to her every feminine curve. The one I’d just been pressed against. The one that appealed to the tastes of heterosexual 15 year old boys. And my brain was still pretty much that of a 15 year old boy. Oh. My. 

Sue stared at me, seeing my blushing state and jumping to a completely wrong conclusion. “Hello… um… wait. Who are you? What are you doing here? Why are you wearing my gym gear?” She asked, pushing me to arms length, eyebrow raised suspiciously, turning to look at Reed.

“Huh?” I responded, confused as I looked down. These were her clothes? I was looking at my chest and, well, no bra, stray guilty thoughts, and, yeah, things were pronounced. My blush deepened guiltily. I looked to Reed for help. He was working. Why couldn’t I think?

“And that is my back pack… Reed? Who is this girl and why does she have my clothes and sports bag? Did you give them too her? Why is she using the shower?!” Sue asked, voice rising. 

“I can explain. Reed was showing me one of his experiments-“ I started, flustered.

“He was, was he? Reed?” She asked, living up to her surname. “I think you have some explaining to do!” Was she jealous? Did she think that Reed and I were … ew. No. I mean Ew!

Reed sighed in exasperation. “Sue, that’s Jessica Drew. One of the Spider-Man clones,” he said. “She has Peter Parker’s mind and memories.”

“What? You’re kidding. Oh, I see.” She back peddled as she processed this new and unlikely information. “Wait. His mind. But she’s a girl…” she stared at me and I blushed once more. 

Sue Storm blinked as she realised my embarrassed excitement had been due to bumping into her. Her mouth made a cute little oh of comprehension.

“She’s standing right here and she doesn’t like people knowing about her condition. It’s private.” I stressed, not wanting to make eye contact with Sue. I didn’t like these feelings. They were frustrating and confusing. “Okay?”

Reed waved off my comment. 

Sue gave me a mixed look of sympathy and worry. She stepped further back, understanding my sexual tension was due to her and not Reed. “Sorry Jessica... Er Peter…? I thought… I was wrong. But, um, why do you have my sports bag?” She asked, recovering.

“It’s Jess. Peter is a different guy.” I stressed but it felt like a lie still. “This bag is not yours. It’s from the zombie world. If it looks like yours then it must have belonged to your alternate self. I got stuck there and Reed rescued me. I was, um, dirty from being stuck there and I asked Reed to use the shower. If you want the clothes back…”

“Oh. No…” she went to a locker and pulled out a bag identical to mine. “Heh. That’s strange…” she observed. “So… um...”

I blushed again. “Yeah.” I said looking into her blue eyes. She was so pretty. 

“Rough day then?” She asked, head tilting.

I made a vague gesture with my hand. “Well. About normal for me…”

“I see…” Sue said with a nod. “So… do you have anyone to talk too? These must be confusing times.”

“No. Not really. I, Er, yeah. It’s hard. But I’m getting there. Slowly,” I said. Reed was watching with a look of clinical curiosity that creeped me out suddenly. “Look. I have to go. Thanks for saving me Reed. Later Sue. Say hi to Ben for me…”

“Wait, Jessica, if you need someone to talk too I… you can talk to me. Ok?” She offered.

I looked at her. She was cute. Why couldn’t I stop thinking that? The more I tried not to the more the thought stuck. “Ok. Um… yeah. Thanks. See ya.” I awkwardly went on my way.

***

Breaking into Mid Town High’s records office was simple the second time round. It was almost the same as Earth-603636. I found Peter’s and a few other smart kids records and photocopied them, then with white out and pen I doctored them up into my name, changing them just enough. I felt guilty doing this… but they were my grades… kind of. I lowered a few just a bit. I then filed my new academic record away and accessed the school computer to create a false record of my enrollment using Reed’s USB to break the password. 

And that was that. I was officially enrolled and finished with Mid Town High. I felt strangely nostalgic. On a whim I headed to my old locker and unlocked the combination lock, the movements familiar and practiced. I looked at my notebooks and the picture of Kitty Pryde taped to the inside door. I touched the picture, the tactile sensation filling my mind with memories of her. I pulled out a folder and rifled through my chemistry notes. In my lithe feminine hands the pages seemed bigger somehow. 

Stuffed in the back of my former locker was an old hoodie. I took it out. This wasn’t mine anymore but I took it anyway. I smelt it. It smelled slightly of stale sweat. Of how I used to smell. Boys stank. It was true. But I put it on because it was mine… I scribbled a note, thanking Pete for the hoodie and signing it Jessica. I also took the picture of Kitty Pryde. Just cause. Ok, I was starting to feel like creepy stalker girl so I got out of there.

I swung to the Astoria Soup Kitchen to line up for a free feed. A couple of rolls, some soup, an apple and an orange. As I was cleaning my bowl with a piece of bread feeling self conscious in my gym gear Lyfe came in. He was sporting a black eye and swollen, broken lip. “Heh! You’re alive! I was kind of worried. You were on the train that got shot up… I heard it. Everyone heard it… What happened?!” He asked as he sat down opposite me, evidently in pain and a wary downtrodden look in his eyes.

“I don’t know. I got out of there. I didn’t stop to look back. But… more importantly, what happened to you?” I asked in concern. It wasn’t just a physical beating. He looked demoralised.

He shrugged. “Mo Money… they were looking for you. They found me and asked me to pass on a message…” he winced and touched his broken lip. “Jess… why does trouble follow you around?”

I sat back in my chair. “I don’t know. I’m really sorry.” I felt frustrated. These guys… they knew they couldn’t get me so they went after him. I shouldn’t have been hanging with Lyfe. Me I could look out for. Other people, normal people… couldn’t be part of my life. I’d come to that realisation when I broke up with MJ. It was a fact of my existence.

“Yeah Jess. You should have left them alone. You’re a great girl, but you went looking for trouble…” he sighed painfully. “And you caused me trouble. I’m living in a car and just getting by. It’s stressful and depressing enough, I feel like my future is slipping away from me every day. I can’t deal with being homeless and Mo Money beating me up and stealing my stuff. I’m sorry. We have to stop hanging out…” he looked afraid and small. He’d been crying. “They have me in their sights now. I can’t be looking behind my back all the time. I just can’t do that again. So… I’m gonna move to another place. Another school.”

“I can-“ I started. 

He made a slashing motion with his hand. “You can what? You can’t reason with these guys. Some of them you can, sure… some of them are in the gangs because of peer pressure - but not all of them. It’s a gang. Some of them are just no good and rotten. And you can’t beat them al. It will always escalate and you become like them. If you hurt one then they will hurt you and your friends. You can’t win. It’s a horrible atmosphere of fear, helplessness and frustration. And the kids at school, they aren’t even the real gang members. The hard core ones are pushing the young ones around. Making them prove themselves… You should change schools too. Get out of their orbit before you get hurt.” He said.

“I’m not running away from them…” I muttered.

Lyfe stood. “Yeah. I figured. There is something about you Jess. I see that. But I’m not like you. I’ve been bullied before. I was outed in my last school and I’ve had to look behind my back because of it, before, during and after school. The fear and worry… I can’t cope with it. Not again.” He stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be seeing you I guess.” He said. Then he turned and left. I watched him go, feeling like I’d failed him. I had.

“God dammit…” I grumbled. I pushed my bowl away, my appetite gone. My jaw muscles worked and tightened. I sat there for a moment turning things over in my mind. If Mo Money were after me then I couldn’t afford to have any friends. Spider-Woman could go after the gang but I’d not been very careful with my spider powers around them and they might add two and two together. The fact of it was I’d been an idiot. 

I felt like going out on patrol as Spider-Woman and cleaning some criminal’s clocks… but I was angry and that was a bad idea. There was a kill squad hunting me. I had to lay low. “Right then…” I stood and walked out of the soup kitchen. 

Three blocks later I was outside the Astoria Fight Club, a local mixed martial arts academy focusing on Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, Muay Thai, Judo, Kickboxing and… parkour? I walked in and looked around. There was a class doing circuit work and the music was pumping. I nodded to the beat. I wanted to be doing something physical to take my mind off my mental troubles and this looked like what I needed.

A young man in the office grinned at me. He had the look of someone who could handle himself. He sized me up. “Hey. I’m Aaron. You’re a new face. You wanna try the gym out? It’s not for everyone, but… free trial session?” He offered.

“Sure.” I agreed. “Am I in the right gear?” I asked, motioning to my gym gear.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he said.

I nodded and went out and joined in the circuit work. I pushed myself as hard as I dared without using any super strength. It was frustrating. What was most peoples upper limit was nothing to me. It felt pointless. The parkour elements were fun but a little basic. 

Aaron seemed to notice my frustration. “You don’t look it but you’re pretty tough aren’t you… hmmm…” he said during a two minute break. He motioned me over, “do you know any martial arts?” He asked.

I shrugged. “Not much.”

“Ok show me what you know…” we sparred for a bit and he gauged my skill level. “Well, you have raw talent but not much finesse…” he observed. “You could benefit from some training. Your form is good but not great.” 

I frowned. I’d trained relentlessly under Gong, enough to realise I didn’t know as much as I thought I did about fighting. I sensed that Aaron was experienced in a range of martial arts and he seemed like a good teacher. “Yeah. But I’m keen to learn.” The problem with being Spider-Woman was that I relied heavily on my powers. My speed, grace, spider sense, and strength weren’t the same as training and skill. I had experience but I’d also learned some bad habits. That was why sometimes a normal human with excellent training could present a challenge to me. I wanted that training to augment my innate physical advantages. 

“Well… you’ve come to the right place. I run classes every night of the week.” He said.

“How much are lessons?” I asked. 

“Forty bucks an hour,” he said. “Two hour lessons are eighty bucks.” I sighed. I couldn’t afford that. I really needed a job. He could see the disappointment on my face. “It’s not cheap but it’s worth it.”

I nodded. I went back to the circuit class but it was pointless. I wasn’t breaking a sweat. I didn’t need exercise, I needed training. If the free weights were an order of magnitude or two heavier this might be worth it. No. I needed training but I was broke.

Money… I really needed a way I could use my powers to get some quick cash. Moving stuff? Demolition work…? Yeah physical labour seemed the trick. But finding a job on a Sunday night seemed unlikely. I finished up in the circuit class and filled in the paperwork for classes. “Hold a place for me,” I asked Aaron. “I’ll have the cash… I’m good for it.”

“Sure thing,” Aaron agreed.

Walking back to the abandoned warehouse where I was squatting I looked up at the buildings about me… “Hmm…” I sat down on the concrete entry stairs to the nearest building and grabbed my newly acquired tablet with its crazy intuitive interface, plugged in the USB hacking device Reed had given me and dialed into the power companies records. 

With the technology at my disposal it was simple to search through power consumption by address in this street. I found a number of very low power consumption addresses. I copied those down in a spreadsheet. Then I checked gas and water on my list. A few addresses had standard gas or water consumption, probably solar or battery power hence low power consumption, but I found three addresses that were low or nonexistent in their combined utilities usage. Empty houses… the lack of usage was long term. Hmm. 

I grinned. I was going to upgrade my squat! I checked my properties on real estate rentals and sales on the net and eliminated one address currently on the market and open for inspection by appointment. Of the two remaining, one was a ground floor level apartment which surrounded it with neighbours. That likely made it more secure and anyone squatting there would also be obvious from the street.

The last option was a penthouse, as near as I could tell, and looked promising. Walking up the street I spotted the address and, ducking into an alley, I wall crawled up to the top floor apartment. No lights on but from the balcony looking in I could see it was fully furnished. I found some wire that was being used to hang a dead pot plant, unhitched the balcony lock with it and slipped stealthily inside. I groped in the dark for a light switch and turned it on. Light flooded the room.

“Well this is perfect!” Open plan modern kitchen and living with a decent entertainment system. I checked the kitchen. The fridge was unplugged and empty. I plugged it in and turned it on. The draws had cutlery and plates. There were some out of date tins of food in the pantry. 

Exploring the other rooms I found a master bedroom with a queen bed and walk in robe with a linen cupboard. There was clean linen in the cupboard and I made up the bed. I grabbed a towel and went into the en-suite and checked the water. Yay, hot water! There was another cupboard with laundry and dryer. I sighed in contentment, thinking that this was almost too perfect. Who owned this place?

I did a bit of research on the Utility records and found the bills were paid by a tech company in Silicon Valley. A quick check online showed that they were a small Dotcom and they’d restructured recently. Hmmm so this was an unused company asset, maybe for travelling corporate staff and it seemed they weren’t travelling. Maybe the company was keeping the asset as a corporate investment? I shrugged. That made sense I guessed. I put down my bag and sat on the couch. Well I had a place to stay. Just needed to get my gear from the warehouse and my roof stash. Change the locks and switch the utility bills to my name. Best to limit utility consumption till then as well I supposed.

With a plan of action I headed to get my stuff and do a grocery shop. On the way there I spotted a run down building with ‘future apartments’ written on it. The building was partly demolished and fenced off. There was also a builder sign on the front. I called up the demolition company.

“Habala Demolitions. Sal speaking,” a voice said with forced politeness. Clearly Sal didn’t want anyone bothering him on Sunday night.

“High Sal, my name is …” I thought a moment. I should use a different name for demolitions. I had four fake identities I could use “…Charlotte Witter. I have an offer for you.”

“An offer?” He asked.

“Yeah I’m at the Twelfth Avenue demolition site in Astoria. I can demolish this building for you… how much would you pay me?” I asked.

“Is this a prank. Listen I-“

“No prank Sal. This is an offer. I have unique skills that I think can be mutually beneficial to us. Strength. Super strength. I can demolish and move materials. Think of me as a compact wrecking machine… cash in hand. No paperwork. Everything kept quiet.” I offered.

“You’re serious. Hmmm. A super. Really strong huh? Well Charlotte, meet me on site at six thirty tomorrow. City ordinance says we can’t start till seven.”

“That’s fine. But I have school from 8am to 3pm. So my window of opportunity isn’t great.” I said.

“Wait. You’re at school? This is a prank, right?” Sal grumbled. “Look, I’m not sure. My guys are in the union... maybe if you meet me we’ll talk…”he seemed to be backing out.

“I can work a job solo. I promise, you’re not going to regret this. We’re going to make crazy money.”

“We’ll see. If something sounds to good to be true it often is I find,” Sal said warily.

“You’re right Sal. For this to work for us we need to keep it quiet. In my experience supers attract the attention of other supers or worse. You go telling people you got a super working for you… you’ll probably have more problems than City Ordinance and Unions. SHIELD. The Ultimates. Punk super villains wanting to make a name. There are all kinds of shady elements whose attention we don’t want.” I said. I needed to be up front.

“You aren’t really selling this to me Charlotte..” Sal said. “But… ok. I have another job lined up. It’s in the old warehouse district.” He gave me an address near my warehouse squat. “Meet me there at 5am tomorrow. It’s industrial so different ordinance. We can start early. This’ll be your job interview.”

“Ok Sal…” I hung up then went and got my stuff stashed at the warehouse and rooftop, bought some staple groceries and toiletries and went to sleep in my new bed.

***

That night I had bad dreams of voracious zombies chasing me through a deserted charnel world. I awoke with a start, webbing the ceiling reflexively and I felt a moment of disorientation. Of dysphoria. Where was I? Was I on the zombie world?! This wasn’t my room… this wasn’t me… no wait… I wasn’t Peter Parker. I was the clone. I checked. Yeah. I was still a girl. Still Jess… in my apartment. God I was stupid…

I closed my eyes and forced myself to sleep but Eldritch horrors outside space and time kept searching for me, slimy tentacled nightmare things that circled about me relentlessly at the edge of my mind. 

I couldn’t sleep. I got up, grabbed a glass of tap water from the kitchen and went to the toilet. I washed my hands and face and stared at myself in the mirror. I still wasn’t used to my reflection. Would I ever accept this? I bit my lip in frustration and went back to bed. 

Thoughts of Lyfe, of Mo Money gang members beating him up and him leaving plagued me. Of Doc Ock being my progenitor- I couldn’t call him s father, the dead clones, the Stacy Experiment, MJ turned into a monster, Aunt May knowing about Peter and whether she could ever know about me – I missed my famiy, about not doing my homework… worries hemmed me in.

I focused on a recent memory that was good… kissing Mary Jane, our bodies pressed together. I closed my eyes and sought comfort in that memory… her gentle skin, her soft hair. The safety and contentment and completeness I felt in her embrace. I breathed and relaxed and felt myself calming… but as I finally slipped off into sleep MJ turned into an angry, jealous Sue Storm who pushed me away and demanded her clothes back. Interrogated me suspiciously. Questioned my existence in her world. I had to remove my clothes, because they weren’t mine. She knew who I was. She could see me… I was naked and exposed and - I awoke again in distress. 

Sleeps over rated. It was three am and I was unable to sleep. I googled my enemy and practiced sketching Senator Sterns face… 

***

I arrived a little early and checked the area around the ‘job interview’ site carefully, then I set up my suit goggles to record the ‘interview’. I wasn’t so much worried about a trap but had decided to be cautious… I also wanted to keep a record of any work I did. I needed to be a law abiding citizen, a legal person, not property or a clone. I definitely did not want to be a criminal. They got Capone for tax evasion and I was intending any money I earned would be able to be scrutinised and investigated and vindicated. I planned to lodge a legitimate tax return. 

Sal rocked up in his big RV, pulling into the gravel car park, splashing through muddy puddles, and climbing out carrying a frog burger bag and a hot drink. He was a short, swarthy, stocky guy and dressed like a blue collar worker - although his clothes were pretty expensive and boots were fancy. He yawned and stretched as I walked across the street and into the factory yard. “Sal.” I greeted him.

“Charlotte. Glad you turned up. Ok kid, I got up early for this, now show me what you got…” Sal said opening his trunk, rummaging about then throwing me a six foot crow bar and motioning to the old factory brick building. It was three storeys tall and over a hundred years old. “Sort the materials. Bricks there – try not to break them cause they can be recycled. Clean and stack the good ones on the pallet. Scrap metal over there in that skip. Glass there. Again see if you can keep the frames intact with the glass in them…” He sipped his coffee and took a bite of his danish, grinning. I think he still though I was joking but he was playing along with the prank.

I wore a face mask I’d got from the drug store to cover my face. I hefted the crow bar and leaped up to the top of the building and got to work. I’d decided not to use my webbing or wall crawling and I had my hair up under a cap. Hopefully this was a good enough disguise. The bricks were easy. With my strength and agility I quickly removed large sections of wall and then jumped down to the ground with them and broke them apart, rapidly cleaning and piling bricks. Sal watched, impressed with my speed and accuracy. I kept going. An hour later I had a large stack of cleaned bricks, unbroken windows in timber frames sorted by size and a very large pile of scrap metal. By 7:00am I was about a quarter done.

Sal licked his lips. “Ok. In the time it took you to do that a ten man team would have just started to set up the union required safety equipment. That’s about…” he blinked as he did the math. “Ok. A grand an hour…?” He asked hopefully. I sensed he was being cheap. 

I did some of my own math. I was happy. “Sal. I know I’m worth five to ten times that. But I’ll settle for a grand an hour. The thing is… any work I do for you needs to be like this. No one else here to see. Off the books. There are very, very dangerous people after me. I can look after myself. You though, you have to keep quiet - that’s how you keep safe. The work sites need to be remote like this…”

“Heh. I’ll keep this quiet. If my guys found out about you they’d go on strike and my business would be black listed by the Union. And I’ve read about you supers. I get it’s all black bag stuff. This is on the down low. You work from 5am to 7am here this week. I’ll have empty skips here to fill for you daily. Ten grand cash by the end of the week, easy.”

I nodded. “Deal… now… the only thing is… can I get paid for today… I’m flat broke.”

“Sure kid. You keep this up and I’ll have a good amount of work for you.” He flipped out a wad of cash and gave me the money for my first two hours work. Two grand.

And that was how Spider-Woman Demolitions got started.

I had barely enough time to swing by my new apartment, shower, change, grab a bite to eat and get to school. 

First period was drawing class. I missed Lyfe and didn’t chat with Michelle or any other students. I noticed most weren’t making eye contact and that a couple of the Mo Money gang members were keeping a close eye on me in the class. Everyone was aware that the gang members were giving me ugly looks. The atmosphere was not good. 

I was setting up my paints when one of the gang kids, Alex his name was, walked by and tried to bump me and spill my supplies. My spider sense kicked in and I grabbed him. He seemed surprised and pushed my hand away. “Careful there…” I suggested calmly. “We don’t want any accidents.”

“Skank,” he muttered and walked away. It just seemed so childish. It was also weird hearing that word directed at me. So strange.

Alex didn’t seem concerned by my response. The other students still wouldn’t look at me. This was not good. Mr Jones noticed the exchange with a raised eyebrow but said nothing. I saw the pattern then. The students and teachers were fearful of the gang. They felt powerless and were reluctant to intervene in bullying incidents – maybe out of concern for their own safety or because the school lacked effective disciplinary measures or support from administrators. I looked over at Michelle. Mr Jones had a daughter to protect too. 

I remembered the gang tag on the stairway door to the roof. It should have been painted over by the school janitor. I’d not thought to wonder why it hadn’t been. Obviously the gang held sway here.

I exhaled in frustration. I wanted to blend in here. Get an education so I could become something more than just a vigilante. I also wanted to become a skilled fighter and… I had to find Krystal and the madmen that made me. And to do that… I wanted to paint stuff after school. 

I couldn’t afford to patrol the school or the neighbourhood – that would draw attention to me and alert the FBI, or whoever was after me, of my location. I just wanted to make some money and set myself up. 

But I had power and responsibility went with that. Yeah, I couldn’t get in fights at school or draw the attention of the authorities. But I had too. I needed to break the stranglehold the gang had on this school. But if Spider-Woman was seen around the school I might as well paint up a sign saying ‘death squad kill here’. It was a conundrum.

When I went to the toilets after first class Michelle followed me in. “Hey Jess. I saw what Alex tried to do…”

“Yeah. Mo Money has an axe to grind against me.” I said.

“Um I can’t chat for long. Roger told some of his friends what happened to him, how they sent you a message and why he left. The news is all round the school. Sad to see him leave. He was a great guy.” She seemed disappointed in me. I didn’t like that. Her opinion mattered to me somehow. “You need be careful, like you said, Mo Money have it in for you - and anyone else you’re close to… sorry Jess. You’re gonna be persona non grata till this blows over unfortunately, just letting you know…”

“Yeah. I had assumed as much. Do you know where they hang out?” I asked. “Aside from the roof.”

“Jesus Jackson’s place. He’s in charge of the gang – he lives on Fifteenth Avenue… um… you’re not going to approach him? I hear that Jesus is… a mutant or something. He’s really tough. His reputation could be hyped. You never know.” She said as she took out a pen and scribbled an address on a piece of paper and passed it to me.

“Mutant? That’s not good. But I just want to talk…” I said as I took the paper.

“Yeah…” she agreed. “Later.” 

I moved onto Calculus II. How to deal with this gang? I needed an identity that didn’t point at me. I had that green power armour I’d stolen from the FBI. It was custom made for my male physiology but it should fit me at a squeeze. My chest wasn’t that big… yet. I was slighter overall than my male self, even my hips were slimmer. There was that shadow stealth suit from the zombie world or negative zone or whatever. It gave me new powers different to my spider powers. It shrunk to its wearer so it should fit over the top of the armour. With it I’d be just a silhouette. I’d need to attach a few things to the suit so the silhouette didn’t look quite the same as the suit… in case the FBI were looking for the suit as well. If I made it bulky enough I should be able to pass for a male hero. Use some kind of voice distorter, one of my phones. 

This had possibilities, real possibilities. But… I needed a name and a clear persona. No wall crawling or webs. Minimise the acrobatics. No jokes… that was going to be hard, although most of my banter wasn’t funny… yeah. A serious, menacing, shadow fighter. 

But how to deal with the gang? I couldn’t just catch the Mo Money crew dealing drugs or robbing people and have them arrested. I had to break the cycle. Maybe… I laughed. Maybe I should take over the gang. Become its leader. It was so crazy it might even work. I had a decent income now. Stop the drug dealing and petty crime and get them organised and legal. Give the gang members a chance. I had a suspicion that most of the crew were in the gang because they had such bad options. Besides I didn’t need the crazy money I was earning – I could use it to help the gang members.

Ok. So I wasn’t going to be a hero. I was going to be an anti-hero. Twilight, The Shadow, Dusk? Yeah I liked the last one. Dusk. The dark hero Dusk, a living shadow taking over Mo Money-

“Jessica, can you please tell us the answer?” The teacher asked, snapping me back to reality.

“Um…” I looked up at the whiteboard, focusing on the problem on the board. “It’s, that is, the derivative is x squared plus 4x.” 

“Yes. But please pay attention.” He said.

“Yes sir…” I agreed ruefully, then grinning. I felt Michelle’s eyes on me and tried to ignore her. I failed. “What?” I whispered.

“You’re plotting something…” she accused.

“No. I’m not.” I lied.

***

After school I hung around the library and did my homework then worked on some sketches to plot out my mural. Satisfied with my mural I headed to the mixed martial arts class where I paid up front for the next two weeks, two hours every night. 

Aaron was a really good instructor, he clearly knew his stuff, and I felt like I was making progress immediately which was a relief. At least something seemed to be going right in my life. He wasn’t as rough as Gong and he explained things in much more detail. After the class I practiced for an hour, making sure what I’d learned stayed in my muscle memory.

I swung by my new apartment after martial arts, had a shower and a bite to eat as I turned one of the phones I’d scored into a voice modulator attached to the body armour helmet, put my body armour and the Dusk suit in my back pack then went out again to buy a ton of spray paint. I then put on my spider suit and headed across town to work on the mural I’d been sketching. 

I chose an old grain silo adjacent to the metro rail line and a major vehicle bridge into Manhattan - nowhere near Astoria. It was in a prime location to get the attention I wanted but wouldn’t point a finger at where I lived. I worked on it until till ten pm. I broke up a mugging and a pimp beating on one of his girls. The dealers cleared out soon after they figured I was around. 

Being able to swing about on webs and wall crawl, and being blessed with super human agility, reflexes and speed allowed me to get down a primer base and do the first part of the mural on the first silo in record time. It was of a hundred dollar bill with Benjamin Franklin replaced with a grinning, demonised Senator Stern. It was pretty clear who I was painting. Nailed it… I had a bit more time so I primed the other silos as well. 

I changed into my body armour and pulled the Dusk suit over the top then flew and shadow jumped to Jesus Jackson’s pad. The gang leader had a large apartment. Some of the Mo Money crew I knew were there out on the balcony. I stashed my backpack on the roof then emerged slowly from the shadows in front of them and floated down onto the balcony to join them.

“Hey. Who’s the crazy cosplayer,” Alex asked as he stared at me, not understanding how I’d stepped out of nowhere. There were some other Mo Money gang members I knew - Julio Hernandez aka brow, Emile Jackson aka Hipster and they stared at my pitch black countenance. They were pandering to an older guy. Jesus I assumed.

“Hello kids. I’m Dusk…” I said, my voice augmented and sinister. Thank god for the App Store. They didn’t like being called kids but that’s what they were. 

“Hah.” Julio laughed. “Putting on a costume don’t mean shi-“

I grabbed him by the mouth to shut him up and wagged a finger. “Uh Uh. I’m talking.” I’m pretty sure I looked bad ass.

Alex stared. “How the-“ 

I stepped into the shadows, crossed the distance between us, emerged and lifted Alex up by his shirt front one handed. I casually shadow jumped over to the balcony edge and easily held Alex out over the six storey drop. “This is now my turf. You either join my crew or I let you go,” I dropped Alex. He cried out as he dropped. I shadow jumped, grabbed him and shadow jumped back onto the balcony. I was glad that worked. Otherwise I would have had to use my web line to catch him and pull him back up onto the balcony. 

“Alex. Are you in my crew?” I asked. 

“Yes,” he stuttered, white as a sheet. I put him down

“Glad to hear it.” I patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve just passed your initiation. Welcome to Dusk’s crew.” 

I stepped into the shadows, grabbed Julio and Emile by the feet and shadow leaped so I hung them both over the side, upside down, one in each hand. “I’m a strict leader and believe in clear rules. No stand over extortion, no weapons and no drugs. So Julio. Emile. You boys want to join my gang?” I asked politely.

They both nodded apprehensively as they looked downwards at the lethal long drop to the ground. I gave them their free fall initiation, catching them in time and shadow leaping them back up. They were both terrified.

I turned to Jesus. “You Jesus Jackson…?”

“Yeah.” He responded sullenly eying me without any fear as he sipped a beer. That wasn’t good. “You got some nerve. You mess with my crew, you mess with me.” He said as he stood menacingly. He was tall and muscular and lean.

“Good to put a name to a face. Jesus… do you want to join my crew?” I asked. 

“You’re serious. Dusk huh? That’s a cool name.” Jesus rubbed his jaw in thought. “But you need to be educated…” he shook his arms and his hands started to glow with a sickly purple light. My spider sense told me to move and I sidestepped the first ball of energy easily. The second a ducked under. The energy blasts took out the balcony. I closed on him and threw him out into the air, jumping after him. He let out a cry of fear as we both fell. “Can you fly?” I yelled.

“No!!!” He cried. I grabbed him and shadow jumped back onto his balcony. I looked down at him huddled on the floor. He’d wet his pants. His little drop initiation had been worse than the others but he was a harder case than them.

“Welcome to my crew Jesus.” I smiled under my mask. I’m not normally a mean person but Jesus was a predator. 

Jesus scowled. “I sell drugs to make ends meet… you can’t shut me down like this.”

“Yeah,” Julio grumbled.

I sighed. Clearly their employment opportunities were rubbish. “No hard drugs – meth, heroin, crack.” I considered. I didn’t like these guys. I really didn’t. They had tried to… Yeah they weren’t good guys. But maybe some of them could be salvaged. “Give me your phones…”

They handed them over. I shadow jumped up onto the roof and grabbed my new tablet from my Hello Kitty bag. I paired it with the phones, using Reeds hacking software to bypass their security. I put away my tablet then jumped back to the balcony and gave them their phones back. “I’ll be in touch’s See you later.” I jumped off the balcony into darkness, circled around and grabbed my back pack and headed home.

Things would have been perfect except I spotted guy in a plastic iron man mask doing a car jacking and had to stop it. Dressed as Dusk I emerged from the shadows between the car jacket and the car. And then he shot me. At point blank range. It hurt but the armour absorbed to blast. At least I think it did. The shadows about me writhed as though in anger and wrapped about him. He let out a scream and when the shadows receded the car jacker was a pale, shivering, terrified wreck.

“Who are you?” The awed middle aged driver asked as he gaped at me.

“I am Dusk. This is my territory!” I said and swirled in darkness and jumped up into the shadows above. 

Once I was home I removed my outfit and made myself a peppermint tea then checked all the contacts, software and SIM card data I’d paired off the Mo Money crews phones. I set up some GPS tracking software to map their movements. Effectively anywhere they went or anything they did on their phones I’d know. I set up some keyword alerts for my name, Dusk, spider-woman and a few other slang terms for drugs, killing or hurting. I’d monitor and refine things later but I had all their social media, phone calls and texts intercepted and recorded.


End file.
